
























s 















































SACONTALA; 

I 

OR, 

THE FATAL RING. 

AN INDIAN DRAMA BY 

C d lid cis. 

REPRINTED FROM THE TRANSLATION OF 

SIR WILLIAM JONES. 



L0ND6N : 
CHARLTON TUCKER, 

21, NORTHUMBERLAND STREET. 
187O. 






Qift. 

W. L. Shoemaker 
7 S '06 



PREFACE. 



IN one of the letters which bear the title of 
EDIFYING, though most of them swarm with 
ridiculous errours, and all must be consulted 
with extreme diffidence, I met, some years ago, 
with the following passage ; — " In the north of 
" India there are many books, called Natac, 
" which as the Brahmens assert, contain a large 
" portion of ancient history without any mixture 
" of fable ;" and having an eager desire to know 
the real state of this empire before the conquest 
of it by the Savages of the North, I was very 
solicitous, on my arrival in Bengal, to procure 
access to those books, either by the help of trans- 
lations, if they had been translated, or by learning 
the language in which they were originally com- 
posed, and which I had yet a stronger inducement 
to learn from its connection with the adminis- 
tration of justice to the Hindus; but when I was 
able to converse with the Brahmens, they as- 
sured me that the Natacs were not histories, and 
abounded with fables ; that they were extremely 
popular works, and consisted of conversations in 
prose and verse, held before ancient Rajas in 



S PREFACE, 



their publick assemblies, on an infinite variety 
of subjects, and in various dialects of India : this 
definition gave me no very distinct idea ; but I 
concluded that they were dialogues on moral or 
literary topicks ; whilst other Europeans, whom 
I consulted, had understood from the natives 
that they were discourses on dancing, musick, 
or poetry. At length a very sensible Brahmen, 
named Radhacant, who had long been attentive 
to English manners, removed all my doubts, and 
gave me no less delight than surprise, by telling 
me that our nation had compositions of the same 
sort, which were publickly represented at Calcutta 
in the cold season, and bore the name, as he had 
been informed, of plays. Resolving at my leisure 
to read the best of them, I asked which of their 
Natacs was most universally esteemed ; and he 
answered without hesitation, Sacontala, support- 
ing his opinion, as usual among the Pandits, hy 
a couplet to this effect: " The ring of Sacontala, 
" in which the fourth act, and four stanzas of that 
" act, are eminently brilliant, displays all the rich 
" exuberance of Calidasa's genius." I soon pro- 
cured a correct copy of it ; and, assisted by my 
teacher Ramalochan, began with translating it 
verbally into Latin, which bears so great a re- 
semblance to Sanscrit, that it is more conve- 
nient than any modern language for a scrupulous 
interlineary version : I then turned it word for 
word into English, and afterwards, without ad- 
ding or suppressing any material sentence, dis- 



PREFACE. 



engaged it from the stiffness of a foreign idiom, 
and prepared the faithful translation of the Indian 
drama, which I now present to the publick as a 
most pleasing and authentick pictureof old Hindu 
manners, and one of the greatest curiosities that 
the literature of Asia has yet brought to light. 

Dramatick poetry must have been immemo- 
rially ancient in the Indian empire: the inven- 
tion of it is commonly ascribed to Bheret, a 
sage believed to have been inspired, who in- 
vented also a system of musick which bears his 
name ; but this opinion of its origin is rendered 
very doubtful by the universal belief, that the 
first Sanscrit verse ever heard by mortals was 
pronounced in a burst of resentment by the 
great Valmic, who flourished in the silver age of 
the world, and was author of an Epick Poem on 
the war of his contemporary, Rama, king of Ay- 
odhya ; so that no drama in verse could have 
been represented before his time ; and the 
Indians have a wild story, that the first regular 
play, on the same subject with the Ramayan 
was composed by Hanumat or Pavan, who com- 
manded an army of Satyrs or Mountaineers in 
Rama's expedition against Lanca": they add, 
that he engraved it on a smooth rock, which, 
being dissatisfied with his composition, he hurled 
into the sea ; and that, many years after, a 
learned Prince ordered expert divers to take 
impressions of the poem on wax, by which means 
the drama was in great measure restored ; and 

B 



io PREFACE. 



my Pandit assures me that he is in possession 
of it. 

By whomsoever or in whatever age this species 
of entertainment was invented, it is very certain, 
that it was carried to great perfection in its 
kind, when Vicramaditya, who reigned in the first 
century before Christ, gave encouragement to 
poets, philologers, and mathematicians, at a 
time when the Britons were as unlettered and 
unpolished as the army of Hanumat : nine men 
of genius, commonly called the nine gems, at- 
tended his court, and were splendidly supported 
by his bounty ; and Calidas is unanimously 
allowed to have been the brightest of them. — A 
modern epigram was lately repeated to me, 
which does so much honour to the author of 
Sacontala, that I cannot forbear exhibiting a 
literal version of it : " Poetry was the sportful 
" daughter of Valmica, and, having been educated 
" by Vyafa, she chose Calidas for her bride- 
" groom after the manner of Viderbha : she was 
11 the mother of Amara, Sundar, Sanc'ha, Dhanic ; 
" but now, old and decrepit, her beauty faded, 
11 and her unadorned feet slipping as she walks, in 
11 whose cottage does she disdain to take shelter ?" 
All the other works of our illustrious Poet, the 
Shakespeare of India, that have yet come to my 
knowledge, are a second play, in five acts, en- 
titled Urvasi ; an heroic poem, or rather a series 
of poems in one book, on the Children of the 
Sun ; another, with perfect unity of action, on 



PREFACE. 



the Birth of Cumara, god of war ; two or three 
love tales in verse ; and an excellent little work 
on Sanscrit Metre, precisely in the manner of 
Terentianus ; but he is believed by some to have 
revised the works of Valmic and Vyafa, and to 
have corrected the perfect editions of them which 
are now current : this at least is admitted by all, 
that he stands next in reputation to those 
venerable bards ; and we must regret, that he 
has left only two dramatick poems, especially as 
the stories in his Raghuvansa would have sup- 
plied him with a number of excellent subjects. 
Some of his contemporaries, and other Hindu 
poets even to our own times, have composed so 
many tragedies, comedies, farces, and musical 
pieces, that the Indian theatre would fill as 
many volumes as that of any nation in ancient 
or modern Europe : all the Pandits assert that 
their plays are innumerable ; and on my first 
inquiries concerning them, I had notice of more 
than thirty, which they consider as the flower of 
their Natacs, among which the Malignant Child, 
the Rape of Usha, the Taming of Durvasas, the 
Seizure of the Lock, Malati and Madhava, with 
five or six dramas on the adventures of their 
incarnate gods, are the most admired, and those 
of Calidas. 

They are all in verse, where the dialogue is 
elevated ; and in prose, where it is familiar : the 
men of rank and learning are represented speak- 
ing pure Sanscrit, and the women Pracrit, which 

B 2 



12 PREFACE. 



is little more than the language of the Brahmens 
melted down by a delicate articulation to the 
softness of Italian ; while the low persons of the 
drama speak the vulgar dialects of the several 
provinces which they are supposed to inhabit. 
The play of Sacontala must have been very 
popular when it was first represented; for the 
Indian empire was then in full vigour, and the 
national vanity must have been highly flattered 
by the magnificent introduction of those kings 
and heroes in whom the Hindus gloried, the 
scenery must have been splendid and beautiful ; 
and there is good reason to believe, that the 
court of Avanti was equal in brilliancy during 
the reign of Vicramaditya, to that of any mon- 
arch in any age or country. 

Dushmanta, the hero of the piece, appears in 
the chronological tables of the Brahmens among 
the children of the moon, and in the twenty-first 
generation after the flood ; so that if we can at 
all rely on the chronology of the Hindus, he was 
nearly contemporary with Obed or Jesse ; and 
Puru, his most celebrated ancestor, was the fifth 
in descent from Budha, or Mercury, who married, 
they say, a daughter of the pious king, whom 
Vishnu preserved in an ark from the universal 
deluge ; his eldest son Bheret was the illustrious 
progenitor of Guru, from whom Pandu was line- 
ally descended, and in whose family the Indian 
Apollo became incarnate; whence the poem, next 
in fame to the Ramayan, is called Mahabharat. 



PREFACE, 13 



As to the machinery of the drama, it is taken 
from the system of mythology, which prevails to 
this day, and which it would require a large 
volume to explain ; but we cannot help remark- 
ing, that the deities introduced in the Fatal Ring 
are clearly allegorical personages. Marichi, the 
first production of Brahma or the Creative 
Power, signifies light, that subtil fluid which was 
created before its reservoir, the sun, as water was 
created before the sea ; Casyapa, the offspring 
of Marichi, seems to be a personification of infi- 
nite space, comprehending innumerable worlds ; 
and his children by Aditi, or his active power 
(unless Aditi mean the primeval day, and Diti, 
his other wife, the night), are Indra, or the visible 
firmament, and the twelve Adityas, or suns, 
presiding over as many months. On the charac- 
ters and conduct of the play I shall offer no 
criticism, because I am convinced the tastes of 
men differ as much as their sentiments and pas- 
sions ; and that in feeling the beauties of art, as 
in smelling flowers, tasting fruits, viewing pro- 
spects, and hearing melody, every individual 
must be guided by his own sensations and the 
incommunicable associations of his own ideas. 
This only I may add, that if Sacontala should 
ever be acted in India, where alone it could be 
acted with perfect knowledge of Indian dresses, 
manners, and scenery, the piece might easily be 
reduced to five acts of a moderate length, by 
throwing the third act into the second, and the 



1 4 PREFACE. 



sixth into the fifth ; for it must be confessed 
that the whole of Dushmanta's conversation with 
his buffoon, and great part of his courtship in the 
hermitage, might be omitted without any injury 
to the drama. It is my anxious wish that others 
may take the pains to learn Sanscrit, and may 
be persuaded to translate the works of Calidas : 
I shall hardly again employ my leisure in a task 
so foreign to my professional (which are, in truth, 
my favourite) studies ; and have no intention of 
translating any other book from any language, 
except the Law Tract of Menu, and the new 
Digest of Indian and Arabian laws; but to show, 
that the Brahmens, at least, do not think polite 
literature incompatible with jurisprudence, I can- 
not avoid mentioning, that the venerable com- 
piler of the Hindu Digest, who is now in his 
eighty-sixth year, has the whole play of Sacon- 
tala by heart ; as he proved when I last con- 
versed with him, to my entire conviction. Lest, 
however, I should hereafter seem to have changed 
a resolution which I mean to keep inviolate, I 
think it proper to say, that I have already trans- 
lated four or five other books, and among them 
the Hitopadesa, which I undertook, merely as an 
exercise in learning Sanscrit, three years before 
I knew that Mr. Wilkins, without whose aid I 
should never have learnt it, had any thought of 
giving the same work to the publick. 



Persons of the Drama. 



Dushmanta 

Sacontald 

A nusiiyd 

Priyamvadd 

Madhdvya 

Gautami 

Sdrngarava 

Sdradwata 

Canna 

Cumbhilaca 

Misracesi 

Mdtali 

A little Boy 

Casyapa 

Aditi 



Emperor of India. 

the Heroine of the piece. 

Damsels attendant on her. 

the Emperor's Buffoon, 
an old female Hermit. 

two Brahmens. 

Foster- Father of Sacontala. 
a Fisherman. 
a Nymph. 
Charioteer of Indra. 

Deities, Parents of Indra. 



Officers of State and Police, Brahmens, Dam- 
sels, Hermits, Pupils, Chamberlas, Warders of 
the Palace, Messengers, and Attendants. 



THE PROLOGUE. 



A Brahmen pronounces the benediction. 

Water was the first work of the Creator ; and 
Fire receives the oblations ordained by law ; the 
Sacrifice is performed with solemnity ; the Two 
Lights of heaven distinguish time ; the subtil 
Ether, which is the vehicle of sound, pervades 
the universe ; the Earth is the natural parent of 
all increase ; and by Air all things breathing are 
animated : may TSA, the God of Nature, appa- 
rent in these eight forms, bless and sustain you ! 
The Manager enters. 

Man. What occasion is there for a long speech ? 
— [Looking- towards the dressing-rooni\ — When 
your decorations, Madam, are completed, be 
pleased to come forward. 

An Aftress enters. 

Actr. I attend, Sir. — What are your commands? 

Man. This, Madam, is the numerous and polite 
assembly of the famed Hero, our king Vicrama- 
ditya, the patron of every delightful art; and 
before this audience we must do justice to a 
new produdtion of Calidas, a dramatick piece, 



THE PROLOGUE. 



entitled Sacontaki, or, The Fatal Ring ; it is 
requested, therefore, that all will be attentive. 

Actr. Who, Sir, could be inattentive to an 
entertainment so well intended ? 

Man. [smiling] I will speak, Madam, without 
reserve. — As far as an enlightened audience 
receive pleasure from our theatrical talents, and 
express it, so far, and no farther, I set a value on 
them ; but my own mind is diffident of its 
powers, how strongly soever exerted. 

Actr. You judge rightly in measuring your 
own merit by the degree of pleasure which this 
assembly may receive; but its value, I trust, 
will presently appear. — Have you any farther 
commands ? 

Man. What better can you do, since you are 
now on the stage, than exhilarate the souls, and 
gratify the sense, of our auditory with a song ? 

Actr. Shall I sing the description of a season ? 
and which of the seasons do you chuse to hear 
described ? 

Man. No finer season could be selected than 
the summer, which is actually begun, and 
abounds with delights. How sweet is the close 
of a summer day, which invites our youth to 
bathe in pure streams, and induces gentle slum- 
ber under the shades refreshed by sylvan breeze; , 
which have passed over the blooming Patalis an^ 
stolen their fragrance ! 

Actr. [singing] "Mark how the soft blossoms 
"of the Nagacefar are lightly kissed by the 



THE PROLOGUE. 19 

" Bees! Mark how the damsels delicately place 
" behind their ears the flowers of Sirisha ! " 

Man. A charming strain ! the whole company 
sparkles, as it were, with admiration ; and the 
musical mode to which the words are adapted, 
has filled their souls with rapture. By what 
other performance can we ensure a continuance 
of their favour ? 

Acir. Oh! by none better than by the Fatal 
Ring, which you have just announced. 

Man. How could I forget it ! In that moment 
I was lulled to distraction by the melody of 
thy voice, which allured my heart, as the king 
Dushmanta is now allured by the swift antelope. 

[ They both go out. 






SACONTALA: 



OR 



THE FATAL RING. 



ACT I. 

Scene — A Forest. 

Dushmanta, in a car, pursuing an antelope, with 
a bow and quiver, attended by his Charioteer. 

Char, [looking at the Antelope, and then at the 
King] When I cast my eye on that black 
antelope, and on thee, O King, with thy braced 
bow, I see before me, as it were, the God Mahesa 
chasing a hart, with his bow, named pinaca, 
braced on his left hand. 

Dnshm. The fleet animal has given us a long 
chase. Oh! there he runs, with his neck bent 
gracefully, looking back, from time to time, at 
the car which follows him. Now, through fear 
of a descending shaft, he contracts his forehand, 
and extends his flexible haunches ; and now, 
through fatigue, lie pauses to nibble the grass 
in his path with his mouth half opened. See how 
lie springs and bounds with long steps, lightly 



SACONTALA. 21 



skimming the ground, and rising high in the 
air ! and now so rapid is his flight that he is 
scarce discernible ! 

Char. The ground was uneven, and the horses 
were checked in their course. He has taken 
advantage of our delay. It is level now, and 
we may easily overtake him. 

Dushm. Loosen the reins. 

Char. As the king commands. — [He drives the 
car first at full speed, and the?i gently ?[ — He 
could not escape. The horses were not even 
touched by the clouds of dust which they raised ; 
they tossed their manes, erefted their ears, and 
rather glided than galloped over the smooth 
plain. 

Ditshm. They soon outran the swift antelope. 
— Obje6ls which, from their distance, appeared 
minute, presently became larger : what was 
really divided seemed united, as we passed ; and 
what was in truth bent, seemed straight. So 
swift was the motion of the wheels, that nothing, 
for many moments, was either distant or near. 
[He fixes an arrow in his bowstring. Behind tlie 
scenes.] He must not be slain. This antelope, 
O King, has an asylum in our forest ; he must 
not be slain. 

Char. [Listening and Looking.] Just as the 
animal presents a fair mark for your arrow, two 
hermits are advancing to interrupt your aim. 

Ditshm. Then stop the car. 

Char. The king is obeyed. [He draws in the reins. 



SACONTALA 



E/iter a Hermit and his Pupil. 

Herm. [Raising his hands!] Slay not, 
mighty sovereign, slay not a poor fawn, who has 
found a place of refuge. No, surely, no; he 
must not be hurt. An arrow in the delicate 
body of a deer would be like fire in a bale of 
cotton. Compared with thy keen shafts, how 
weak must be the tender hide of a young 
antelope ! Replace quickly, oh ! replace the 
arrow 7 which thou hast aimed. The weapons of 
you kings and warriors are destined for the relief 
of the oppressed, not for the destruction of the 
guiltless. 

Duslim. [Saluting them!] It is replaced. 

[He places the arrow in his quiver. 

Herm. [ With joy.'] Worthy is that aft of thee, 
most illustrious of monarchs; worthy, indeed, 
of a prince descended from Puru. Mayst thou 
have a son adorned with virtues, a sovereign 
of the world ! 

Pup. [Elevating both his hands.] Oh ! by all 
means may thy son be adorned with every virtue, 
a sovereign of the world ! 

Duslun. [Bozvingto the///.] My head bears with 
reverence the order of a Brahmen. 

Herm. Great king, we came hither to colleft 
wood for a solemn sacrifice ; and this forest, 
on the banks of the Malini, affords an asylum 
to the wild animals protected by Sacontahi, 
whom our holy preceptor Carina has received as 
a sacred deposit. If you have no other avoca- 



OR, THE FA TAL RING. 23 

tion, enter yon grove, and let the rights of 
hospitality be duly performed. Having seen 
with your own eyes the virtuous behaviour of 
those whose only wealth is their piety, but whose 
worldly cares are now at an end, you will then 
exclaim, "How many good subjects are defended 
" by this arm, which the bowstring has made 
" callous !" 

Duslun. Is the master of your family at home ? 

Herni. Our preceptor is gone to Somatirt'ha, 
in hopes, of deprecating some calamity, with 
which destiny threatens the irreproachable 
Sacontala ; and he has charged her, in his 
absence, to receive all guests with due honour. 

Duslun. Holy man, I will attend her; and she, 
having observed my devotion, will report it 
favourably to the venerable sage. 

Both. Be it so ; and we depart on our busi- 
ness. [The Hermit and his Pupil go out. 

Duslun. Drive on the car. By visiting the 
abode of holiness, we shall purify our souls.. 

Char. As the King (may his life be long !) 
commands. [He drives on. 

Duslun. [Looking on all sides.] That we are 
near the dwelling-place of pious hermits, would 
clearly have appeared, even if it had not been told. 

Char. By what marks ? 

Duslun. Do you not observe them ? See under 
yon trees the hallowed grains which have been 
scattered on the ground, while the tender female 
parrots were feeding their unfledged young in 



24 SACOXTALA; 



their pendant nests. Mark in other places the 
shining pieces of polished stone which have 
bruised the oily fruit of the sacred Ingudi. Look 
at the young fawns, which, having acquired 
confidence in man, and accustomed themselves 
to the sound of his voice, frisk at pleasure, with- 
out varying their course. Even the surface of 
the river is reddened with lines of consecrated 
bark, which float down its stream. Look again ; 
the roots of yon trees are bathed in the waters 
of holy pools, which quiver as the breeze plays 
upon them ; and the glowing lustre of yon fresh 
leaves is obscured, for a time, by smoke that 
rises from oblations of clarified butter. See too, 
where the young roes graze, without apprehen- 
sion from our approach, on the lawn before 
yonder garden, where the tops of the sacrificial 
grass, cut for some religious rite, are sprinkled 
around 

Char. I now observe all those marks of some 
holy habitation. 

Duslim. [Turning aside.'] This awful sanc- 
tuary, my friend, must not be violated. Here 
therefore stop the car ; that I may descend. 

Char. I hold in the reins. The king may 
descend at his pleasure. 

D usl u)i. {Having descended, and looking at his 
own dress.) Groves devoted to religion must be 
entered in humble habiliments. Take these regal 
ornaments : — [the charioteer rece ves /hen/} — 
and, whilst I am observing those who inhabit 



OR, THE FATAL RING. 25 

this retreat, let the horses be watered and 
dressed. 

Char. Be it as you direct ! [He goes out. 

Dushm. [ Walking round and looking^] Now 
then I enter the sanctuary. — [He enters the grove. ~\ 
- — Oh ! this place must be holy, my right arm 
throbs. — [Pausing and considering^ — What new 
acquisition does this omen promise in a seques- 
tered grove ? But the gates of predestined 
events are in all places open. 

[Behind the scenes.] Come hither, my beloved 
companions ; oh ! come either. 

Dushm. [Listening.] Hah ! I hear female 
voices to the right of yon arbour. I am resolved 
to know who are conversing. — [He walks round 
and looks.] — There are some damsels, I see, 
belonging to the hermit's family who carry 
water-pots of different sizes proportioned to their 
strength, and are going to water the delicate 
plants. Oh! how charmingly they look ! If the 
beauty of maids who dwell in woodland retreats 
cannot easily be found in the recesses of a palace, 
the garden flowers must make room for the 
blossoms of the forest, which excel them in 
colour and fragrance. (He stands gazing at them. 

Enter — Sacontala, Anusiiya, and Priyamvada. 

Ann. O my Sacontala, it is in thy society that 
the trees of our father Canna seem to me delight- 
ful ; it well becomes thee, who art soft as the 
fresh-blown Mallica, to fill with water the canals 
which have been dug round these tender shrubs. 

C 



S AC XT A LA ; 



Sac, It is not only in obedience to our father 
that I elms employ myself, though that were a 
sufficient motive, but I really feel the affection of 
a sister for these young plants. [ Watering them. 

Pri. My beloved friend, the shrubs which you 
have watered flower in the summer, which is now 
begun : let us give water to those which have 
passed their flowering time ; for our virtue will 
be the greater when it is wholly disinterested. 

Sac. Excellent advice ! 

[ Watering other plants, 

Duslim. [Aside in transport]. How ! is that 
Canna's daughter, Sacontala ? — [ With surprise.] 
— The venerable sage must have an unfeeling 
heart, since he has alloted a mean employment 
to so lovely a girl, and has dressed her in a 
coarse mantle of woven bark. He, who could 
wish that so beautiful a creature, who at first sight 
ravishes my soul, should endure the hardships of 
his austere devotion, would attempt, I suppose, 
to cleave the hard wood Sami with a leaf of the 
blue lotos. Let me retire behind this tree, that 
I may gaze on her charms without diminishing 
her confidence. [He retires. 

Sae. My friend Priyamvada has tied this 
mantle of bark so closely over my bosom that it 
gives me pain ; Anusiiya, I request you to untie 
it. [Anusuya unties the mantle. 

Pri. [Laughing.] Well, my sweet friend 
enjoy, while you may, that youthful prime, which 
gives your bosom so beautiful a swell. 



OR, THE FATAL RING. 27 

Ditshm. [Aside.] Admirably spoken, Priyam- 
vada ! No ; her charms cannot be hidden, even 
though a robe of intertwisted fibres be thrown 
over her shoulders, and conceal a part of her 
bosom, like a veil of yellow leaves enfolding a radi 
ant flower. The water lily, though dark moss may 
settle on its head, is nevertheless beautiful ; and 
the moon with dewy beams is rendered yet 
brighter by its black spots. The bark itself 
acquires elegance from the features of a girl 
with antelope's eyes and rather augments than 
diminishes my ardour. Many are the rough stalks 
w r hich support the water lily; but many and exqui- 
site are the blossoms which hang on them. 

Sac. [Looking before her.] Yon Amra tree, 
my friends, points with the finger of its leaves, 
which the gale gently agitates, and seems in- 
clined to whisper some secret. I will go near it. 
[ They all approach the tree. 

Pri. O my Sacontala, let us remain some time 
in this shade. 

Sac. Why here particularly ? 

Pri. Because the Amra tree seems wedded to 
you who are graceful as the blooming creeper 
which twines round it. 

Sac. Properly are you named Priyamvada, or 
speaking kindly. 

Dnshm. [Aside.] She speaks truly. Yes ; 
her lip glows like the tender leaflet ; her arms 
resemble two flexible stalks ; and youthful 
beauty shines, like a blossom, in all her lineaments. 

C 2 



2S SACONTALAj 



Anu. Sec, my Sacontala, how yon fresh 
Mallica, which you have surnamed Vanadosini, 
or Delight of the Grove, has chosen the sweet 
Amra for her bridegroom. 

Sac. [Approaching, and looking at it with 
/Measure.] How charming is the season, when 
the nuptials even of plants are thus publickly 
celebrated ! [She stands admiring it. 

Pii. [Smiling.] Do you know, my Anusuya, 
why Sacontala gazes on the plants with such 
rapture ? 

Ann. No, indeed : I was trying to guess. 
Pray, tell me. 

Pri. " As the Grove's Delight is united to a 
" suitable tree, thus I too hope for a bridegroom 
" to my mind." — That is her private thought at 
this moment. 

Sac. Such are the flights of your own imagina- 
tion. [Inverting the water-pot. 

Ann. Here is a plant, Sacontala, which you 
have forgotten, though it has grown up, like 
yourself, under the fostering care of our father 
Canna. 

Sac. Then I shall forget myself. — O wonder- 
ful !" — \approacliing the plant.'] — O Priyamvada ! 
[looking at it with joy] I have delightful tidings 
for you. 

Pri. What tidings, my beloved, for me ? 

Sac. This MAdhavi-creeper, though it be not 
the usual time for flowering, is covered with gay 

tssoms from its root to its top, 



OR, THE FATAL RING. 29 

Both. [Approaching it hastily '.] Is it really so, 
sweet friend ? 

Sac. Is it so ? look yourselves. 

Pri. [ With eagerness?^ From this omen, Sa- 
contala, I announce you an excellent husband, 
who will very soon take you by the hand. 

[Both girls look at Sacontald. 

Sac. [Displeased.] A strange fancy of yours. 

Pri. Indeed, my beloved, I speak not jestingly. 
I heard something from our father Canna. Your 
nurture of these plants has prospered ; and 
thence it is, that I foretel your approaching 
nuptials. 

Anu. It is thence, my Priyamvada, that she 
has watered them with so much alacrity. 

Sac. The Madhavi plant is my sister ; can I 
do otherwise than cherish her ? 

[Pouring water on it. 

Dushm. [Aside.] I fear she is of the same 
religious order with her foster-father. Or has 
a mistaken apprehension risen in my mind ? My 
warm heart is so attached to her, that she cannot 
but be a fit match for a man of a military class. 
The doubts which awhile perplex the good, are 
soon removed by the prevalence of their strong 
inclinations. I am enamoured of her, and she 
cannot, therefore, be the daughter of a Brahmen, 
whom I could not marry. 

Sac. [Moving her head.] Alas ! a bee has left 
the blossom of this Mallica, and is fluttering 
round my face. [She expresses uneasiness. 



SACONTALA; 



Dushm. [Aside, with affection^ How often 
have I seen our court damsels affectedly turn 
their heads aside from some roving insect, merely 
to display their graces ! but this rural charmer 
knits her brows, and gracefully moves her eyes 
through fear only, without art or affectation. Oh ! 
happy bee, who touchest the corner of that eye 
beautifully trembling ; who, approaching the tip 
of that ear, murmurest as softly as if thou wert 
whispering a secret of love ; and who sippest 
nectar, while she waves her graceful hand, from 
that lip, which contains all the treasures oi de- 
light ! Whilst I am solicitious to know in what 
family she was born, thou art enjoying bliss, 
which to me would be supreme felicity. 

Sac. Disengage me, I entreat, from this im- 
portunate insect, which quite baffles my efforts. 

Pri. What power have we to deliver you ? 
The king Dushmanta is the sole defender of our 
consecrated groves. 

DitsJim. {Aside}) This is a good occasion for me 
to discover myself. [Advancing a little?^ I must 
not, I will not, fear. Yet — [checking himself and 
retiring~\ — my royal character will thus abruptly 
be known to them. No; I will appear as a simple 
stranger, and claim the duties of hospitality. 

Sac. This impudent bee will not rest. I 
will remove to another place. — [stepping aside 
and looking round.] — Away ! away ! He follows 
me wherever I go. Deliver me, oh ! deliver me 
from this distress. 



OR, THE FATAL RING. 31 

Dushm. [advancing hastily. ~\ Ah ! while the 
race of Puru govern the world, and restrain even 
the most profligate, by good laws well admin- 
istered, has any man the audacity to molest the 
lovely daughters of pious hermits ? 

[ They look at him with emotion. 

Ann. Sir, no man is here audacious ; but this 
damsel, our beloved friend was teased by a 
fluttering bee. [Both girls look at Sacontala. 

Dushm. [Approaching her.'] Damsel, may thy 
devotion prosper ! 

[Sacontala looks on the ground bashful and 
silent. 

A?iu. Our guest must be received with due 
honours. 

Pri. Stranger, you are welcome. Go, my 
Sacontala ; bring from the cottage a basket of 
fruit and flowers. This river will, in the mean- 
time, supply water for his feet. 

[Looking at the water-pots, 

Dushm. Holy maid, the gentleness of thy 
speech does me sufficient honour. 

Anu. Sit down awhile on this bank of earth, 
spread with the leaves of Septaperna : the shade 
is refreshing, and our lorpl must want repose 
after his journey. 

Dushm. You too must all be fatigued by your 
hospitable attentions : rest yourselves, therefore, 
with me. 

Pri. [Aside to Sacontala.] Come, let us all be 



32 S A CO XT ALA; 



seated; our guest is contented with our reception 
of him. [They all seat themselves. 

Sac. [Aside] At the sight of this youth I feel 
an emotion scarce consistent with a grove devoted 
to piety. 

Dushm. [Gazing at tliem alternately] How well 
your friendship agrees, holy damsels, with the 
charming equality of your ages, and of your 
beauties ! 

Pri. {Aside to Anusuya.] Who can this be, my 
Anusuya ? The union of delicacy with robust- 
ness in his form, and of sweetness with dignity 
in his discourse, indicate a character fit for ample 
dominion. 

Ami [Aside to Priyamvada.] I too have been 
admiring him. I must ask him a few questions. 
— [Aloud.] Your sweet speech, sir, gives me 
confidence. What imperial family is embelished 
by our noble guest ? What is his native country ? 
Surely it must afflicted by his absence from it. 
What, I pray, could induce you to humiliate 
that exalted form of yours by visiting a forest 
peopled only by simple Anchorites ? 

Sac. [Aside.] Perplex not thyself, O my heart ! 
let the faithful Anusuya direct with her counsel 
the thoughts which rise in thee. 

Dushm. [Aside.] How shall I reveal, or how 
shall I disguise myself? — [Musing] — Be it so. — 
[Aloud to Anusuya.] Excellent lady, I am 
a student of the Veda, dwelling in the city of 
our king, descended from Puru ; and, being oc- 



OR, THE FATAL RING. 33 

cupied in the discharge of religious and moral 
duties, am come hither to behold the sanctuary 
of virtue. 

Ann. Holy men employed like you, are our 
lords and masters. 

[Sacontala looks modest, yet with affection ; 
while her companions gaze alternately at her 
a? id at the king. 

Ann. {Aside to Sacontala.] Oh! if our ven- 
erable father were present. 

Sac. What if he were ? 

Ann. He would entertain our guest with a 
variety of refreshments. 

Sac. {Pretending displeasure^ Go too ; you 
had some other idea in your head : I will not 
listen to you. [She sits epart. 

Dnshm. [Aside to Anusuya and Priyamvada.] 
In my turn, holy damsels, allow me to ask one 
question concerning your lovely friend. 

Both. The request, sir, does us honour. 

Dnshm. The sage Canna, I know, is ever in- 
tent upon the great Being ; and must have 
declined all earthly connections. How then can 
this damsel be, as it is said, his daughter ? 

Anzi. Let our lord hear. There is, in the 
family of Cusa, a pious prince of extensive 
power, eminent in devotion and in arms. 

Dushm. You speak, no doubt, of Causica, the 
sage and monarch. 

Ann. Know, sir, that he is in truth her father ; 
while Canna bears that reverend name, because 



34 SACONTALA; 



he brought her up, since she was left an infant. 

Duslun. Left ? the word excites my curiosity ; 
and raises in me a desire of knowing her whole 
story. 

Ann. You shall hear it, Sir, in few words. — 

When that sage king had begun to gather the 
fruits of his austere devotion, the gods of Swerga 
became apprehensive of his increasing power, 
and sent the nymph Menaca to frustrate, by her 
allurements, the full effect of his piety. 

Duslun. Is a mortal's piety so tremendous to 
the inferior deities ? What was the event ? 

Ann. In the bloom of the vernal season, Causica, 
beholding the beauty of the celestial nymph, and 
wafted by the gale of desire — 

[She stops and looks modest] 

Duslun. I now see the whole. Sacontala then 
is the daughter of a king, by a nymph of the 
low T er heaven. 

Anu. Even so. 

Duslun. [Aside.] The desire of my heart is 
gratified. — [Aloud.] — How, indeed, could her 
transcendent beauty be the portion of mortal 
birth ? Yon light, that sparkles with tremulous 
beams, proceeds not from a terrestrial cavern. 

[Sacontala sits modestly, zuith her eyes on tlu 
ground] 

Duslun. [Again aside.] Happy man that I 
am ! Now has my fancy an ample range, yet, 
having heard the pleasantry of her companions 
on the subject of her nuptials, I am divided with 



OR, THE FATAL RING. 33 

anxious doubt, whether she be not wholly des- 
tined for a religious life. 

Pri. [Smiling, and looking first at Sacontala, 
then at the king.] Our lord seems desirous of 
asking other questions. 

[Sacontala rebukes Priyamvada with her hand.~\ 

Dushm. You know my very heart. I am, in- 
deed, eager to learn the whole of this charmer's 
life ; and must put one question more. 

Pri. Why should you muse on it so long ? — 
[Aside.] One would think this religious man was 
forbidden by his vows to court a pretty woman. 

Dnslim. This I ask ; Is the strict rule of a 
hermit so far to be observed by Canna, that he 
cannot dispose of his daughter in marriage, but 
must check the natural impulse of juvenile love? 
Can she (oh preposterous fate !) be destined to 
reside for life among her favourite antelopes, the 
black lustre of whose eyes is far surpassed by hers ? 

Pri. Hitherto, Sir, our friend has lived happy 
in this consecrated forest, the abode of her spiri- 
tual father ; but it is now his intention to unite 
her with a bridegroom equal to herself. 

Dushm. [Aside, with ecstacy.] Exult, oh my 
heart, exult. All doubt is removed ; and what 
before thou wouldst have dreaded as a flame, 
may now be approached as a gem inestimable. 

Sac. [Seeming angry.] Anusuya, I will stay 
here no longer. 

Ann. Why so, I pray ? 

Sac. I will go to the holy matron Gautami, 



36 SACONTALA; 



and let her know how impertinently our Priyam- 
vada has been prattling. [She rises. 

Anu. It will not be decent, my love, for an 
inhabitant of this hallowed wood to retire before 
a guest has received complete honour. 

[Sacontala, giving no answer, offers to go. 

DusJini. [Aside.] Is she then departing ? — 
\Hc rises, as if going to stop her y but checks 
himself[\ — The actions of a passionate lover are 
as precipitate as his mind is agitated. Thus I, 
w r hose passion impelled me to follow the hermit's 
daughter, am restrained by a sense of duty. 

Pri. [going up to Sacontala.] My angry friend, 
you must not retire. 

Sac. [Stepping back and frowning^ What 
should detain me ? 

Pri. You owe me the labour, according to our 
agreement, of watering two more shrubs. Pay 
me first to acquit your conscience, and then de- 
part if you please. [Holding her. 

Duslim. The damsel is fatigued, I imagine, by 
pouring so much water on the cherished plants. 
Her arms, graced with palms like fresh blossoms, 
hang carelessly down ; her bosom heaves with 
strong breathing ; and now her dishevelled locks, 
from which the string has dropped, are held by 
one of her lovely hands. Suffer me, therefore, 
thus to discharge the debt. [Giving his ring 
to Priyamvadd. Both damsels, reading the 
name Dushmanta inscribed on the ring, look with 
surprise at each other] — It is a toy unworthy of 



OR, THE FA TAL RING. 37 

your fixed attention ; but I value it as a gift from 
the king. 

PrL Then you ought not, sir, to part with it. 
Her debt is from this moment discharged on 
your word only. [She returns the ring. 

Anu. You are now released, Sacontala, by this 
benevolent lord,— or favoured, perhaps, by a mon- 
arch himself. To what place will you now retire ? 

Sac. [aside] Must I not wonder at all this if 
I preserve my senses ? 

PrL Are not you going, Sacontala ? 

Sac. Am I your subject ? I shall go when it 
pleases me. 

Dushm. [Aside, looking at Sacontala] Either 
she is affected towards me, as I am towards her, 
or I am distracted with joy. She mingles not her 
discourse with mine ; yet, when I speak, she lis- 
tens attentively. She commands not her actions 
in my presence ; and her eyes are engaged on 
me alone. 

Behind the scenes] Oh pious hermits, preserve 
the animals of this hallowed forest ! The king 
Dushmanta ishunting in it. The dust raised by the 
hoofs of his horses, which pound the pebbles ruddy 
as early dawn, falls like a swarm of blighting insects 
on the consecrated boughs which sustain your 
mantles of woven bark, moist with the water of 
the stream in which you have bathed. 

Dushm, [Aside.] Alas ! my officers, who are 
searching for me, have indiscreetly disturbed this 
holy retreat. 



38 SACONTALA; 



Again behind the sceftes.] Beware ye hermits, 

of yon elephant, who comes overturning all that 
oppose him ; now he fixes his trunk wit violence 
on a lofty branch that obstructs his way ; and 
now he is entangled in the twining stalks of the 
Vratati. How are our sacred rites interrupted ! 
How are the protected herds dispersed ! The 
wild elephant, alarmed at the new appearance 
of a car, lays our forest waste. 

Dushm. [Aside.] How unwillingly am I of- 
fending the devout foresters ! Yes ; I must go 
to them instantly. 

Pri. Noble stranger, we are confounded with 
dread of the enraged elephant. With your per- 
mission, therefore, we retire to the hermit's 
cottage. 

Anu. O Sacontala, the venerable matron will 
be much distressed on your account. Come 
quickly that we may be all safe together. 

Sac. [ Walking slowly :] I am stopped. Alas ! 
by a sudden pain in my side. 

Duslim. Be not alarmed, amiable damsels. It 
shall be my care that no disturance happen 
in your sacred groves. 

Pri. Excellent stranger, we were wholly un- 
acquainted with your station ; and you will for- 
give us, we hope, for the offence of intermitting 
awhile the honours due to you : but we humbly 
request that you will give us once more the plea- 
sure of seeing you, though you have not now 
been received with perfect hospitality. 



OR, THE FATAL RING. 39 

Ditshm. You depreciate your own merits. 
The sight of you, sweet damsels, has sufficiently 
honoured me. 

Sac. My foot, Anusuya, is hurt by this 
pointed blade of Cusa grass ; and now my loose 
vest of bark is caught by a branch of the Curu- 
vaca. Help me to disentangle myself, and 
support me. [She goes out looking from time to 
time at Dushmanta, and supported by the damsels.] 

Duslim. [Sighing.] They are all departed ; 
and I too, alas ! must depart. For how T short a 
moment have I been blessed with a sight of the 
incomparable Sacontala ! I will send my atten- 
dants to the city, and take my station at no 
great distance from this forest. I cannot, in 
truth, divert my mind from the sweet occupation 
of gazing on her. How, indeed, should I other- 
wise occupy it ? My body moves onward ; but 
my restless heart runs back to her ; like a light 
flag borne on a staff against the wind, and 
fluttering in an opposite direction. [He goes out.] 



40 SACONTALAj 



ACT II. 

SCENE — A Plain, with royal pavilions on the 
skirt of t lie forest. 

Mddhavya. [Sighing and lamenting.] Strange 
recreation this! — Ah me! I am wearied to death. 
■ — My royal friend has an unaccountable taste. — 
What can I think of a king so passionately fond 
of chasing unprofitable quadrupeds ? — " Here runs 
an antelope ? there goes a boar ! " — Such is our 
only conversation. — Even at noon, in excessive 
heat, when not a tree in the forest has a shadow 
under it, we must be skipping and prancing 
about like the beasts whom we follow. — Are 
we thirsty ? We have nothing to drink but the 
waters of mountain torrents, which taste of 
burned stones and mawkish leaves. — Are we 
hungry? We must greedily devour lean venison, 
and that commonly roasted to a stick. — Have I 
a moment's repose at night? — My slumber is dis- 
turbed by the din of horses and elephants, or by 
the sons of slave-girls hollooing out, " More 
venison, more venison ! " — Then comes a cry 
that pierces my ear, " Away to the forest, away!" 
— Nor are these my only grievances : fresh pain 
IS now added to the smart of my first wounds ; 
for, while we were separated from our king, who 
was chasing a foolish deer, he entered, 1 find, yon 



OR, THE FA JAL RING. 41 

lonely place, and there, to my infinite grief, 
saw a certain girl, called Sacontala, the daughter 
of a hermit ; from that moment not a word of 
returning to the city ! — These distressing thoughts 
have kept my eyes open the whole night. — Alas ! 
when shall we return ? — I cannot set eyes on my 
beloved friend Dushmanta since he set his heart 
on taking another wife. — [Stepping aside and 
looking.] Oh ! there he is. — How changed ! — 
He carries a bow, indeed, but wears for his dia- 
dem a garland of wood flowers. — He is advanc- 
ing ; I must begin my operations. — [He stands 
leaning on a staffs — Let me thus take a moment's 
rest. [Aloud]. 

Dushmanta enters, as described. 
Dnshm. [Aside, sighing.] My darling is not so 
easily attainable ; yet my heart assumes confi- 
dence from the manner in which she seemed 
affected : surely, though our love has not hitherto 
prospered, yet the inclinations of us both are fixed 
on our union. — [Smiling.] — Thus do lovers agree- 
ably beguile themselves, when all the powers of 
their souls are intent on the objects of their 
desire ! — But am I beguiled ? No ; when she 
cast her eyes even on her companions, they spar- 
kled with tenderness ; when she moved her 
graceful arms, they dropped, as if languid with 
love ; when her friend remonstrated against her 
departure, she spoke angrily — all this was, no 
doubt, on my account. — Oh ! how quick-sighted 
is love in discerning his own advantages ! 

D 



42 SACONTALA: 



MddJu \Bending downward^ as bcforc~\ Great 
prince ! my hands are unable to move ; and it is 
with my lips only that I can mutter a blessing on 
you. May the king be victorious ! 

Duslim. {Looking at him and smiling^] Ah ! 
what has crippled thee, friend Madhavya ? 

Mddh. You strike my eye with your own hand, 
and then ask what made it weep. 

Duslim. Speak intelligibly. I know not what 
you mean. 

MddJi. Look at yon Vetas tree bent double in 
the river. Is it crooked, I pray, by its own act, 
or by the force of the stream ? 

Duslim. It is bent, I suppose, by the current. 

Mddh. So am I by your Majesty. 

Duslim. How so, Madhavya ? 

Mddh. Does it become you, I pray, to leave 
the great affairs of your empire, and so charming 
a mansion as your palace, for the sake of living 
here like a forester ? Can you hold a council in 
a wood ? I, who am a reverend Brahmen, have 
no longer the use of my hands and feet : they 
are put out of joint by my running all day long 
after dogs and wild beasts. Favour me, I 
entreat, with your permission to repose but a 
single day. 

Duslim. [Aside.] Such are this poor fellow's 
complaints ; whilst I, when I think of Canna's 
daughter, have as little relish for hunting as lie ; 
how can I brace this bow, and fix a shaft in the 
string, to shoot at those beautiful deer who dwell 



OR, THE FATAL RING. 43 

in the same groves with my beloved, and whose 
eyes derive lustre from hers ? 

Mddh. [Looking stedfastly at the king.] What 
scheme is your royal mind contriving ? I have 
been crying, I find, in a wilderness. 

Dushm. I think of nothing but the gratifica- 
tion of my old friend's wishes. 

Mddh. [Joyfully] Then may the king live 
long ! {Rising, bu,t counterfeiting feebleness. 

Dushm. Stay ; and listen to me attentively. 

Mddh. Let the king command. 

Dushm. When you have taken repose, I shall 
want your assistance in another business, that 
will give you no fatigue. 

Mddh. Oh ! what can that be, unless it be eat- 
ing rice-pudding ? 

Dushm. You shall know in due time. 

Mddh. I shall be delighted to hear it. 

Dushm. Hola ! who is there ? 

The Chamberlain enters. 

Cham. Let my sovereign command me. 

Dushm. Raivataca, bid the General attend. 

Cham. I obey. — [He goes out, and returns with 
the General] — Come quickly, Sir, the king stands 
expecting you. 

Gen. [Aside, looking at Dushmanta.] How- 
comes it that hunting, which moralists reckon a 
vice, should be a virtue in the eyes of a king ? 
Thence it is, no doubt, that our emperor, occu- 
pied in perpetual toil, and inured to constant 
heat, is become so lean, that the sunbeams hardly 

D 2 



44 SACONTALA; 



affect him ; while he is so tall, that he looks to 
us little men, like an elephant grazing on a 
mountain: he seems all soul. — [/Uoud, approach- 
ing the king.] — May our monarch ever be vic- 
torious ! This forest, O king, is infested by 
beasts of prey ; we see the traces of their huge 
feet in every path. What orders is it your plea- 
sure to give ? 

Duslim. Bhadrasena, this moralizing Mad- 
havya has put a stop to our recreation by forbid- 
ing the pleasures of the chase. 

Gen. {Aside to Mddhavya] Be firm to your 
word, my friend ; whilst I sound the king's real 
inclinations. — [Aloud.'] — O! Sir, the fool talks 
idly. Consider the delights of hunting. The 
body, it is true, becomes emaciated, but it is 
light and fit for exercise. Mark how the wild 
beasts of various kinds are variously affected by 
fear and by rage ! What pleasure equals that of a 
proud archer, when his arrow hits the mark as it 
flies ? — Can hunting be justly called a vice ? No 
recreation, surely, can be compared w T ith it. 

Mddh. [Angrily.] Away thou false flatterer! 
The king, indeed, follows his natural bent, and 
is excusable ; but thou, son of a slave girl, hast 
no excuse. — Away to the wood ! — How I wish 
thou hadst been seized by a tiger or an old bear, 
who was prowling for a skakal like thyself ! 

Duslim. We are now, Bhadrasena, encamped 
near a sacred hermitage ; and I cannot at pre- 
sent applaud your pancgyrick on hunting. This 



OR, THE FATAL RING. 45 

day, therefore, let the wild buffalos roll undis- 
turbed in the shallow water, or toss up the sand 
with their horns ; let the herd of antelopes, as- 
sembled under the thick shade, ruminate without 
fear ; let the large boars root up the herbage on 
the brink of yon pool ; and let this my bow 
take repose with a slackened string. 

Gen. As our lord commands. 

Dushm. Recall the archers who have advanced 
before me, and forbid the officers to go very far 
from this hallowed grove. Let them beware of 
irritating the pious : holy men are eminent for 
patient virtues, yet conceal within their bosoms 
a scorching flame ; as carbuncles are naturally 
cool to the touch ; but, if the rays of the sun 
have been imbibed by them, they burn the hand. 

Mddh. Away now, and triumph on the delights 
of hunting. 

Gen. The King's orders are obeyed. [He goes out. 

Dushm. [To his attendants^ Put off your 
hunting apparel ; and thou, Raivataca, continue 
in waiting at a little distance. 

Cham. I shall obey. [Goes out. 

Mddh. So ! you have cleared the stage ; not 
even a fly is left on it. Sit down, I pray, on this 
pavement of smooth pebbles, and the shade of 
this tree shall be your canopy : I will sit by you ; 
for I am impatient to know what will give me 
no fatigue. 

Dushm. Go first, and seat thyself. 

Mddh. Come, my royal friend. 

[They both sit under a tree. 



46 SACONTALA : 



DiisJim. Friend Madhavya, your eyes have not 
been gratified with an object which best deserves 
to be seen. 

Mddh. Yes, truly ; for a king is before them. 

Dushm. All men are apt, indeed, to think 
favourably of themselves ; but I meant Sacon- 
tala, the brightest ornament of these woods. 

Mddh. [Aside.] I must not foment this pas- 
sion. — [A loud.] What can you gain by seeing 
her ? She is a Brahmen's daughter, and conse- 
quently no match for you ! 

Dushm. What ! Do people gaze at the new 
moon, with uplifted heads and fixed v eyes, from 
a hope of possessing it ? But you must know, 
that the heart of Dushmanta is not fixed on 
an object which he must for ever dispair of 
attaining. 

Mddh. Tell me how. 

Dushm. She is the daughter of a pious prince 
and warriour, by a celestial nymph ; and, her 
mother having left her on earth, she has been 
fostered by Canna, even as a fresh blossom of 
Malati, which droops on its pendant stalk, is 
raised and expanded by the sun's tight, 

Mddh. [Laughing] You desire to possess this 
rustic girl, when you have women bright as gems 
in your palace already, is like the fancy of a 
man, who has lost his relish for dates, and longs 
for the sour tamarind. 

Dushm. Did you know her, you would not 
talk so wildly. 



OR, THE FATAL RING. 47 

Mddh. Oh ! certainly, whatever a king ad- 
mires must be superlatively charming. 

Dushm. [Smiling.'] What need is there of long 
description ? When I meditate on the power of 
Brahma, and on her lineaments, the creation of so 
transcendent a j ewel outshines, in my apprehension, 
all his other works : she was formed and moulded 
in the eternal mind, which had raised with its 
utmost exertion, the ideas of perfect shapes, 
and thence made an assemblage of all abstract 
beauties. 

Mddh. She must render, then, all other hand- 
some women contemptible. 

Dushm. In my mind she really does. I know 
not yet what blessed inhabitant of this world will 
be the possessor of that faultless beauty, which 
now resembles a blossom whose fragrance has 
not been diffused ; a fresh leaf, which no hand 
has torn from its stalk; a pure diamond, which 
no polisher has handled ; new honey, whose 
sweetness is yet untasted ; or rather the celestial 
fruit of collected virtues, to the perfection of 
which nothing can be added. 

Mddh. Make haste, then, or the fruit of all 
virtues will drop into the hand of some devout 
rustick, whose hair shines with oil of Ingudi. 

Dushm. She is not her own mistress ; and her 
foster-father is at a distance. 

Mddh. How is she disposed towards you ? 

Dushm. My friend, the damsels in a hermit's 
family are naturally reserved : yet she did look 



4S SACONTALA; 



at me, wishing to be unpcrccivcd ; then she 
smiled, and started a new subject of conversation. 
Love is by nature averse to a sudden communi- 
cation, and hitherto neither fully displays, nor 
wholly conceals, himself in her demeanor towards 
me. 

Mcidh. \LaughingI\ Has she thus taken pos- 
session of your heart on so transient a view ? 

Duskm. When she walked about with her 
female friends, I saw her yet more distinctly, and 
my passion was greatly augmented. She said 
sweetly, but untruly, " My foot is hurt by the 
" points of the Cusa grass :" then she stopped ; 
but soon, advancing a few paces, turned back her 
face, pretending a wish to disentangle her vest 
of woven bark from the branches in which it had 
not really been caught. 

Mddli. You began with chasing an antelope^ 
and have now started new game : thence it is, I 
presume, that you are grown so found of a con- 
secrated forest.. 

DiisJun. Now the business for you, which I 
mentioned, is this ; you, who are a Brahmen, 
must find some expedient for my second entrance 
into that asylum of virtue. 

MddJi. And the advice which I give is this : 
remember that you are a king. 

Duskm. What then ? 

Mddli. " Hola ! bid the hermits bring my 
" sixth part of their grain." Say this, and enter 
the grove without scruple. 



OR, THE FA TAL RING. 49 

Duskm. No, Madhavya ; they pay a different 
tribute, who, having abandoned all the gems and 
gold of this world, possess riches far superior. The 
wealth of princes, collected from the four orders 
of their subjects, is perishable ; but pious men 
give us a sixth part of the fruits of their piety ; 
fruits which never perish. 

Behind the scenes.] Happy men that we are ! 
we have now attained the object of our desire. 

Ditshm. Hah ! I hear the voices of some reli- 
gious anchorites. 

The Chamberlain enters. 
Cham. May the king be victorious ! — Two 
young men, sons of a hermit, are waiting at my 
station, and soliciting an audience. 

Duskm. Introduce them without delay. 
Cham. As the king commands. — [He goes out f 
and re-enters with two Brahmens.] — Come on ; 
come this way. 

First Brdhm. {Looking at the king.] Oh ! what 
confidence is inspired by his brilliant appearance ! 
— Or proceeds it rather from his disposition to 
virtue and holiness ? — Whence comes it, that my 
fear vanishes ? — He now has taken his abode in 
a wood which supplies us with every enjoyment; 
and with all his exertions for our safety, his 
devotion increases from day to day. — The praise 
of a monarch who has conquered his passions 
ascends even to heaven : inspired bards are con- 
tinually singing, " Behold a virtuous prince ! " 
but with us the name stands first : " Behold, 
among kings, a sage ! " 



5o SACONTALA ; 



Second Bra Inn. Is this, my friend, the truly 
virtuous Dushmanta ? 
First Brdhm. Even he. 

S ceo j id Bra! ini. It is not then wonderful, that 
he alone, whose arm is lofty and strong as the 
main barof his city gate, possesses the whole earth, 
which forms a dark boundary to the ocean ; or 
that the gods of Swerga, who fiercely contend in 
battle with evil powers, proclaim victory gained 
by his braced bow, not by the thunderbolt of 
IXDRA. 

Both. [Approaching h£m.] O king, be victo- 
rious! 

Diislnn. [Rising:] I humbly salute you both. 

Both. Blessings on thee ! 

Duslun. [Respectfully?^ May I know the cause 
of this visit ? 

First Brdhtn. Our sovereign is hailed by the 
pious inhabitants of these woods ; and they 
implore — 

Duslun. What is their command ? 

First Brdlun. In the absence of our spiritual 
guide, Canna, some evil demons are disturbing 
our holy retreat. Deign, therefore, accompanied 
by thy charioteer to be master of our asylum, if 
it be only for a few short days. 

Dushni. [Eagerly.] I am highly favoured by 
your invitation. 

Mddh. [Aside.] Excellent promoters of your 
design ! They draw you by the neck, but not 
against your will. 



OR, THE FATAL RING. 51 

Dushm. Raivataca, bid my charioteer bring 
my car, with my bow and quiver. 

Cham. I obey. [He goes ou t 

First Brdhm. Such condescension well be- 
comes thee, who art an universal guardian. 

Second Brdhm, Thus do the descendants of 
Puru perform their engagement to deliver their 
subjects from fear of danger. 

Dushm. Go first, holy men ; I will follow in- 
stantly. 

Both. Be ever victorious. [They go out. 

Dushm. Shall you not be delighted, friend 
Madhavya, to see my Sacontala ? 

Mddh. At first I should have had no objec- 
tion ; but I have a considerable one since the 
story of the demons. 

Dushm. Oh ! fear nothing: you will be near me. 

Mddh. And you, I hope, will have leisure to 
protect me from them. 

The Chamberlain re-enters. 

Chant. May our lord be victorious ! The 
imperial car is ready ; and all are expecting your 
triumphant approach. Carabba too, a mesenger 
from the queen-mother, is just arrived from the 
city. 

Dushm. Is he really come from the venerable 
queen ? 

Cham. There can be no doubt of it. 

Dushm. Let him appear before me 
The Chamberlain goes out and returns with the 
Messenger. 



52 SACONTALA; 



Cham. There stands the king — O Carabba, 
approach him with reverence. 

Mess. [Prostrating himself ".] May the king be 
victorious ! — The royal mother sends this mes- 
sage 

Dushm. Declare her command. 

Mess. Four days hence the usual fast for the 
advancement of her son will be kept with solem- 
nity ; and the presence of the king (may his life 
be prolonged !) will then be required. 

Dushm. On one hand is a commission from holy 
Brahmens ; on the other, a command from my 
reverend parent ; both duties are sacred, and 
neither must be neglected. 

Mddh. [Laughing] Stay^ suspended between 
them both, like king Trisancu between heaven 
and earth ; when the pious men said " Rise !" 
and the gods of Swerga said " Fall !" 

Dushm. In truth I am greatly perplexed. My 
mind is principally distracted by the distance of 
the two places where the two duties are to be 
performed ; as the stream of a river is divided by 
rocks in the middle of its bed. — [Musing.] — Friend 
Madhavya, my mother brought you up as her 
own son, to be my playfellow, and to divert me 
in my childhood. You may very properly act 
my part in the queen's devotions. Return then 
to the city, and give an account of my distress 
through the commission of these reverend foresters. 

Mddh. That I will ; — but you could not really 
suppose that I was afraid of demons ! 



OR, THE FATAL RING. 53 

Dushm. How come you, who are an egregious 
Brahmen, to be so bold on a sudden ! 

Mddh. Oh ! I am now a young king. 

Dushm. Yes, certainly ; and I will dispatch 
my whole train to attend your highness, whilst I 
put an end to the disturbance in this hermitage. 

Mddh. [Strutting?^ This buffoon of a Brahmen 
has a slippery genius. He will perhaps disclose 
my present pursuit to the women in the palace. 
I must try to deceive him. — \Taking Madhavya 
by the hand?^ — I shall enter the forest, be assured, 
only through respect for its pious inhabitants ; 
not from any inclination for the daughter of a 
hermit. How far am I raised above a girl edu- 
cated among antelopes ; a girl, whose heart must 
ever be a stranger to love ! — The tale was inven- 
ted for my diversion. 

Mddh. Yes, to be sure ; only for your diver- 
sion. 

Dushm. Then farewell, my friend ; execute 

my commission faithfully, whilst I proceed to 

defend the anchorites. 

[All go out. 



54 SACONTALA; 



ACT III. 

Scene — The Hermitage in a Grove. 
The Hermit's Pupil bearing consecrated grass. 

Pupil. [Meditating with zuonder.] How great is 
the power of Dushmanta ! — The monarch and 
his charioteer had no sooner entered the grove 
than we continued our holy rites without inter- 
ruption. — What words can describe him ? — By 
his bravely aiming a shaft, by the mere sound 
of his bow-string, by the simple murmur of his 
vibrating bow, he disperses our calamities. — Now 
then I deliver to the priests this bundle of fresh 
Cusa grass to be scattered round the place 
of sacrifice. — [Looking behind the scenes?^ — -Ah ! 
Priyamvada, for whom are you carrying that 
ointment of Usira root, and those leaves of water 
lilies ? — [Listeningattentively?^ — What say you ? — 
That Sacontala is extremely disordered by the 
sun's heat, and that you have procured for her 
a cooling medicine ! Let her, my Priyamvada, 
be diligently attended ; for she is the darling of 
our venerable father Canna. — I will administer, 
by the hand of Gautami, some healing water 
consecrated in the ceremony, called Vaitana. 

[He goes out. 
Dushmanta enters, expressing the distraction of 
a lover. 
Duslun. I well know the power of her devo- 



OR, THE FATAL RING. 55 



tion ; that she will suffer none to dispose of her 
but Canna, I too well know. Yet my heart can 
no more return to its former placid state, than 
water can re-ascend the steep, down which it has 
fallen. — O god of love, how can thy darts be so 
keen, since they are pointed with flowers ? — Yes, 
I discover the reason of their keenness. They are 
tipped with the flames which the wrath of Hara 
kindled, and which blaze at this moment like the 
Barava fire under the waves ; how else couldst 
thou, who consumed even to ashes, be still the 
inflamer of our souls? By thee and by the 
moon, though each of you seems worthy of our 
confidence, we lovers are cruelly deceived. They 
who love as I do, ascribe flowery shafts to thee, 
and cool beams to the moon, with equal impro- 
priety; for the moon sheds fire on them with her 
dewy rays, and thou pointest with sharp dia- 
monds those arrows which seem to be barbed 
with blossoms. Yet this God, who bears a fish 
on his banners, and who wounds me to the soul, 
will give me real delight, if he destroy me with 
the aid of my beloved, whose eyes are large and 
beautiful as those of a roe. O powerful divinity 
when I even thus adore thy attributes, hast thou 
no compassion? Thy fire, O Love, is fanned 
into a blaze by a hundred of my vain thoughts. 
Does it become thee to draw thy bow even to 
thy ear, that the shaft aimed at my bosom may 
inflict a deeper wound ? Where now can I recre- 
ate my afflicted soul by the permission of those 



56 SACONTALAj 

pious men whose uneasiness I have removed by 
dismissing my train? — [Sighing.] — I can have no 
relief but from a sight of my beloved. — [Looking 
?//>.] — This intensely hot noon must, no doubt, be 
passed by Sacontala with her damsels on the 
banks of this river overshadowed with Tamalas. " 
— It must be so. — I will advance thither. — [ Walk- 
ing round and looking?^ — My sweet friend has, I 
guess, been lately walking under that row of 
young trees ; for I see the stalks of some flowers, 
which probably she gathered, still unshrivelled ; 
and some fresh leaves newly plucked, still drop- 
ping milk. — [Feeling a breeze?^ — Ah! this bank 
has a delightful air! Here may the gale embrace 
me, wafting odours from the water lilies, and 
cool my breast, inflamed by the bodiless god, 
with the liquid particles which it catches from 
the waves of the Malini. — {Looking down.] — 
Happy lover! Sacontala must be somewhere in 
this grove of flowering creepers; for I discern on 
the yellow sand at the door of yon arbour some 
recent footsteps, raised a little before, and de- 
pressed behind by the weight of her elegant 
limbs. — I shall have a better view from behind 
this thick foliage. — [He coneeals himself y looking 
vigilantly?^ — Now are my eyes fully gratified. 
The darling of my heart, with her two faithful 
attendants, reposes on a smooth rock strewn with 
fresh flowers. — These branches will hide me, 
whilst I hear their charming conversation. 

[lie stands concealed and gazes. 



OR, THE FATAL RING. 57 

Sacontala and her two Damsels discovered. 

Both. {Fanning her.] Say, beloved Sacontala, 
does the breeze raised by our fans of broad lotos 
leaves, refresh you ? 

Sac. [Mournfully.] Why, alas ! do my dear 
friends take this trouble ? 

[Both look sorrowfully at eacJi other, 

DusJim. [Aside.] Ah! she seems much indis- 
posed. What can have been the cause of so 
violent a fever ? Is it what my heart suggests ? — 
[Musing] — Or I am perplexed with doubts. The 
medicine extracted from the balmy Usira has 
been applied, I see, to her bosom ; her only 
bracelet is made of thin filaments from the stalks 
of a water lily, and even that is loosely bound 
on her arm. Yet, even thus disordered, she is 
exquisitely beautiful. Such are the hearts of 
the young ! Love and the sun equally inflame 
us ; but the scorching heat of summer leads not 
equally to happiness with the ardour of youthful 
desires. 

Pri. [Aside to Anusuya.] Did you not ob- 
serve how the heart of Sacontala was affected by 
the first sight of our pious monarch ? My 
suspicion is, that her malady has no other cause. 

Ann. [Aside to Priyamvada.] The same 
suspicion had risen in my mind. I will ask her at 
once. — [Aloud.] — My sweet friend Sacontala, let 
me put one question to you. What has really oc- 
casioned your indisposition ? 

Duslim. [Aside.] She must now declare it. 

E 



5 S SACONTALA; 



Ah ! though her bracelets of lotos are bright as 
moonbeams, yet they are marked, I see, with 
black spots from internal ardour. 

Sac. [Half raising herself^] Oh ! say what 
you suspect to have occasioned it 

Aim. Sacontala, we must necessarily be ig- 
norant of what is passing in your breast ; but I 
suspect your case to be that which we have 
often heard related in tales of love. Tell us 
openly what causes your illness. A physician, 
without knowing the cause of a disorder, cannot 
even begin to apply a remedy. 

Dushm. [Aside.] I flatter myself with the 
same suspicion. 

Sac. [Aside.] My pain is intolerable ; yet I 
cannot hastily disclose the occasion of it. 

Pri. My sweet friend, Anusuya, speaks ration- 
ally. Consider the violence of your indisposition. 
Every day you will be more and more emaciated, 
though your exquisite beauty has not yet for- 
saken you. 

Dushm. [Aside.] Most true. Her forehead is 
parched ; her neck droops ; her waist is more 
slender than before ; her shoulders languidly 
fall ; her complection is wan ; she resembles a 
Madhavi creeper, whose leaves are dried by a 
sultry gale : yet, even thus transformed, she is 
lovely and charms my soul. 

Sac. [Sighing.] What more can I say ? Ah! 
why should J be the occasion of your sorrow? 
Pri. For that very reason, my beloved, we are 



OR, 7 HE FATAL RING. 59 

solicitous to know your secret; since, when each 
of us has a share of your uneasiness, you will 
bear more easily your own portion of it. 

Ditshm. [Aside.] Thus urged by two friends, 
who share her pains as well as her pleasures, she 
cannot fail to disclose the hidden cause of her 
malady ; while I, on whom she looked at our 
first interview with marked affection, am filled 
with anxious desire to hear her answer. 

Sac. From the very instant when the accom- 
plished prince, who has just given repose to our 
hallowed forest, met my eye — 

[She breaks off and looks modest. 

Both. Speak on, beloved Sacontala. 

Sac. From that instant my affection was un- 
alterably fixed on him — -and thence I am reduced 
to my present langour. 

Anu. Fortunately your affection is placed on a 
man worthy of yourself. 

Pri. Oh ! could a fine river have deserted the 
sea and flowed into a lake ? 

Ditshm. \Joyfully?[ That which I was eager to 
know, her own lips have told. Love was the 
cause of my distemper, and love has healed it ; 
as a summer's day, grown black with clouds, 
relieves all animals from the heat which itself 
had caused. 

Sac. If it be no disagreeable task, contrive, 
I entreat you, some means by which I may find 
favour in the king's eyes. 

DusJim. [Aside.] That request banishes all my 

E 2 






6o SAC0X7ALA; 



cares, and gives me rapture even in my present 
uneasy situation. 

Pri. [Aside to Anusuyd.] A remedy for her, 
my friend, will scarce be attainable. Exert all 
the powers of your mind ; for her illness admits 
of no delay. 

Ann. [Aside to Priyamvada.] By what ex- 
pedient can her cure be both accelerated and 
kept secret ? 

Pri. [As before^ Oh ! to keep it secret will be 
easy ; but to attain it soon, almost insuperably 
difficult. 

Ann. [As before^] How so ? 

Pri. The young king seemed, I admit, by his 
tender glances, to be enamoured of her at first 
sight; and he has been observed, within these few 
days, to be pale and thin, as if his passion had 
kept him long awake. 

Duslivi. [Aside.] So it has — This golden 
bracelet, sullied by the flame which preys on me, 
and which no dew mitigates, but the tears gush- 
ing nightly from these eyes, has fallen again and 
again on my wrist, and has been replaced on my 
emaciated arm. 

Pri. [Aloud^\ I have a thought, Anusuya — 
Let us write a love letter, which I will conceal in 
a flower, and, under the pretext of making a 
respectful offering, deliver it myself into the 
king's hand. 

Ann. An excellent contrivance! It pleases 
me highly ; but what says our beloved Sacontala? 



OR, THE FATAL RING. 61 

Sac. I must consider, my friend, the possible 
consequences of such a step. 

Pri. Think also of a verse or two, which may 
suit your passion, and be consistent with the 
character of a lovely girl born in an exalted 
family. 

Sac. I will think of them in due time ; but my 
heart flutters with the apprehension of being 
rejected. 

Dushm. [Aside.] Here stands the man su- 
premely blessed in thy presence, from whom, O 
timid girl, thou art apprehensive of a refusal ! 
Here stands the man, from whom, O beautiful 
maid, thou fearest rejection, though he loves 
thee distractedly. He who shall possess thee 
will seek no brighter gem ; and thou art the gem 
which I am eager to possess. 

Ann. You depreciate, Sacontala, your own 
incomparable merits. What man in his senses 
would intercept with an umbrella the moonlight 
of autumn, which alone can allay the fever caused 
by the heat of the noon ? 

Sac. [Smiling?^ I am engaged in thought 

[She meditates. 

Dushm. Thus then I fix my eyes on the lovely 
poetess, without closing them a moment, while 
she measures the feet of her verse ; her fore- 
head is gracefully moved in cadence, and her 
whole aspect indicates pure affection. 

Sac. I have thought of a couplet ; but we 
have no writing implements. 



62 SACONTALA; 



Pri. Let us hear the words ; and then I will 
mark them with my nail on this lotos leaf, soft 
and green as the breast of the young paroquet ; 
it may easily be cut into the form of a letter. — 
Repeat the verses. 

Sac. " Thy heart, indeed, I know not : but 
" mine, Oh ! cruel, love warms by day and by 
" night; and all my faculties are centered on 
" thee." 

Dushm. [Hastily advancing \ and pronouncing a 
verse in the same meas?tre.] " Thee, O slender 
" maid, love only warms ; but me he burns ; as 
" the day star only stifles the fragrance of the 
" night flower, but quenches the very orb of the 
"moon." 

Ann. [Looking at him joyfully?] Welcome, 
great king ; the fruit of my friend's imagination 
has ripened without delay. 

[Sacontala expresses an inclination to rise. 

Dushm. Give yourself no pain. Those delicate 
limbs, which repose on a couch of flow r ers, those 
arms, whose bracelets of lotos are disarranged by 
a slight pressure, and that sweet frame, which 
the hot noon seems to have disordered, must not 
be fatigued by ceremony. 

Sac. [Aside.] O my heart, canst thou not rest 
at length after all thy sufferings ? 

Ann. Let our sovereign take for his seat a part 
of the rock on which she reposes. 

[Sacontala makes a little rooni. 

DusJnn. [Seating himself.] Friyamvada, is not 



OR, THE FA TAL RING. 63 

the fever of your charming friend somewhat 
abated ? 

Pri. [Smiling] She has just taken a salutary 
medicine, and will soon be restored to health. 
But, O mighty prince, as I am favoured by you 
and by her, my friendship for Sacontala prompts 
me to converse with you for a few moments. 

Dushm. Excellent damsel, speak openly ; and 
suppress nothing. 

Pri. Our lord shall hear. 

Dushm. I am attentive. 

Pri. By dispelling the alarms of our pious 
hermits, you have discharged the duty of a great 
monarch. 

Dushm. Oh ! talk a little on other subjects. 

Pri. Then I must tell you that our beloved 
companion is enamoured of you, and has been 
reduced to her present langour by the resistless 
divinity, love. You only can preserve her in- 
estimable life. 

Dushm. Sweet Priyamvada, our passion is 
reciprocal ; but it is I who am honoured. 

Sac. [Smiling, with a mixture of affection and 
resentment] Why should you detain the virtuous 
monarch, who must be afflicted by so long an 
absence from the secret apartments of his palace ? 

Dushm. This heart of mine, oh thou who art 
of all things the dearest to it, will have no object 
but thee, whose eyes enchant me with their black 
splendour, if thou wilt but speak in a milder 
strain. I, who was nearly slain by love's arrow, 
am destroyed by thy speech. 



64 SACONTALA; 



Anu. [Laughing?] Princes are said to have 
many favourite consorts. You must assure us, 
therefore, that our beloved friend shall not be 
exposed to affliction through our conduct. 

Dushm. What need is there of many words? 
Let there be ever so many women in my palace, 
I will have only two objects of perfect regard ; 
the sea-girt earth, which I govern, and your sweet 
friend, whom I love. 

Both. Our anxiety is dissipated. 

(Sacontala strives in vain to conceal Iter joy?) 

Pri. {Aside to Anusiiya.) See how our friend 
recovers her spirits by little and little, as the 
pea-hen, oppressed by the summer heat, is re- 
freshed by a soft gale and a gentle shower. 

Sac. [To the damsels.] Forgive, I pray, my 
offence in having used unmeaning words; they 
were uttered only for your amusement in return 
for your tender care of me. 

Pri. They were the occasion, indeed, of our 
serious advice. But it is the king who must for- 
give; who else is offended? 

Sac. The great monarch will, I trust, excuse 
what has been said either before him or in his 
absence. — [Aside to the damsels.] Intercede with 
him, I entreat you. 

Dicshm. [Smiling?] I would cheerfully forgive 
any offence, lovely Sacontala, if you, who have 
dominion over my heart, would allow me full 
room to sit by you, and recover from my fatigue, 
Oil this flowery couch pressed by your delicate 
limbs, 



OR, THE FA TAL RING. 65 

Pri. Allow him room; it will appease him, 
and make him happy. 

Sac. \Pretendiiig anger, aside to Priyamvada.] 
Be quiet, thou mischief-making girl ! Dost thou 
sport with me in my present weak state. 

Anu. [Looking behind the scenes?^ O ! my 
Priyamvada, there is our favourite young ante- 
lope running wildly and turning his eyes on all 
sides ; he is, no doubt, seeking his mother, who 
has rambled in the wide forest. I must go and 
assist his search. 

Pri. He is very nimble ; and you alone will 
never be able to confine him in one place. I 
must accompany you. [Both going out. 

Sac. Alas ! I cannot consent to your going 
far; I shall be left alone. 

Both. [Smiling.] Alone ! with the sovereign 
of the world by your side! [They go out. 

Sac. How could my companions both leave me ? 

Ditslnn. Sweet maid, give yourself no concern. 
Am not I, who humbly solicit your favour, pre- 
sent in the room of them? — [Aside.] — I must 
declare my passion. — [Aloud.] — Why should not 
I, like them, wave this fan of lotos leaves, to raise 
cool breezes and dissipate your uneasines? Why 
should not I, like them, lay softly in my lap 
those feet, red as water lilies, and press them, O 
my charmer, to relieve your pain ? 

Sac. I should offend against myself, by receiv- 
ing homage from a person entitled to my respect 
[She rises and walks slowly throitgh weakness. 



66 S AC NT A LA ; 



Dushm. The noon, my love, has not yet 
passed ; and your sweet limbs are weak. Having 
left the couch where fresh flowers covered your 
bosom, you can ill sustain this intense heat with 
so languid a frame. 

[He gently draws Iter back. 

Sac. Leave me, oh leave me. I am not, 

indeed, my own mistress, or the two damsels 

were only appointed to attend me. What can I 
do at present ? 

DusJun. [Aside.] Fear of displeasing her makes 
me bashful. 

Sac. [Over/iearing him] The king cannot give 
offence. It is my unhappy fate only that I 
accuse. 

DnsJim. Why should you accuse so favourable 
a destiny ? 

Sac. How rather can I help blaming it, since 
it has permitted my heart to be affected by 
amiable qualities, without having left me at my 
own disposal ? 

Duslim. [Aside.] One would imagine that the 
charming sex, instead of being, like us, tormented 
with love, kept love himself within their hearts, 
to torment him with delay. [Sacontala going out. 

Duslim. [Aside] How ! Must I then fail of 
attaining felicity ? [Following hcr y and catching 
the skirt of her mantle. 

Sac. [Turning back.] Son of Puru, preserve 
thy reason ; oh ! preserve it. — The hermits are 
busy on all sides of the grove. 



OR, THE FATAL RING. 67 

Dushm. My charmer, your fear of them is vain. 
Carina himself, who is deeply versed in the science 
of law, will be no obstacle to our union. Many 
daughters of the holiest men have been married 
by the ceremony called Gandharva, as it is 
practised by Indra's band, and even their fathers 
have approved them. — [Looking round.] — What 
say you ? Are you still inflexible ? Alas ! I 
must then depart. 

[Going from her a few paces, then looking back. 

Sac. [Moving also a few steps, then turning back 
her face?] Though I have refused compliance, and 
have only allowed you to converse with me for 
a moment, yet — O son of Puru — let not Sacon- 
tala be wholly forgotten. 

Dushm. Enchanting girl, should you be re- 
moved to the ends of the world, you will be 
fixed in this heart, as the shade of a lofty tree 
remains with it even when the day is departed. 

Sac. [Going out, aside?] Since I have heard his 
protestations, my feet move, indeed, but without 
advancing. I will conceal myself behind those 
flowering Curuvacas, and thence I shall see the 
result of his passion. 

[She hides herself behind the shrubs. 

Dushm. [Aside?] Can you leave me beloved 
Sacontala ; me who am all affection ? Could 
you not have tarried a single moment ? Soft is 
your beautiful frame, and indicates a benevolent 
soul ; yet your heart is obdurate, as the tender 
Sirisha hangs on a hard stalk. 



63 SACONTALA; 



Sac. [Aside] I really have now lost the power 
of departing. 

Dushm. [Aside] What can I do in this retreat 
since my darling has left it ? — [Musing and look- 
iug round] — Ah ! my departure is happily 
delayed. Here lies her bracelet of flowers, 
exquisitely perfumed by the root of Usira which 
had been spread on her bosom ; it has fallen from 
her delicate wrist, and is become a new chain 
for my heart. 

[ Taking up the bracelet with reverence. 

Sac. [Aside, looking at Jier Jiand] Ah me ! 
such was my langour, that the filaments of lotos 
stalks which bound my arm dropped on the 
ground unperceived by me. 

DusJnn. [Aside, placing it in Ids bosom.] Oh! 
how delightful to the touch ! From this orna- 
ment of your lovely arm, O my darling, though 
it be inanimate and senseless, your unhappy 
lover has regained confidence — a bliss which you 
refused to confer. 

Sac. [Aside.] I can stay here no longer, By 
this pretext I may return. 

[Going slowly towards hi///. 

D/isli/n. [ With rapture?^ Ah ! the empress of 
my soul again blesses these eyes. After all my 
misery I was destined to be favoured by indul- 
gent heaven. The bird Chatac, whose throat was 
parched with thirst, supplicated for a drop of 
water, and suddenly a cool stream poured into 
his bill from the bounty of a fresh cloud. 



OR, THE FATAL RIXG. 69 

Sac. Mighty king, when I had gone half way 
to the cottage, I perceived that my bracelet of 
thin stalks had fallen from my wrist ; and I 
return because my heart is almost convinced 
that you must have seen and taken it. Restore 
it, I humbly entreat, lest you expose both your- 
self and me to the censure of the hermits. 

Dnshm. Yes, on one condition I will return it. 

Sac. On what condition ? Speak 

Dnshm. That I may replace it on the wrist to 
which it belongs. 

Sac. [Aside] I have no alternative. 

{Approaching kirn 

Dnshm. But in order to replace it, we must 
both be seated on that smooth rock. 

[Both sit down* 

Dnshm. [Taking her hand.] O exquisite soft- 
ness ! This hand has regained its native strength 
and beauty, like a young shoot of Camalata ; or 
it resembles rather the god of love himself, when, 
having been consumed by the fire of Hara's 
wrath he was restored to life by a shower of 
nectar sprinkled by the immortals. 

Sac. [Pressing his hand.] Let the son of my 
lord make haste to tie on the bracelet. 

Dnshm. [Aside, with rapture] Now I am truly 
blessed. That phrase, the son of my lord, is ap- 
plied only to a husband. — [Aloud.] — My charmer, 
the clasp of this bracelet is not easily loosened ; 
it must be made to fit you better. 

Sac. [Smiling.] As you please. 

Dnshm. [Quitting her hand] Look, my darling; 



7o SACONTALA: 



this is the new moon which left the firmament in 
honour of superior beauty, and, having de- 
scended on your enchanting wrist, has joined 
both its horns round it in the shape of a 
bracelet. 

Sac. I really see nothing like a moon; the 
breeze, I suppose, has shaken some dust from the 
lotos flower behind my ears, and that has ob- 
scured my sight. 

Dushm. \Smiling?\ If you permit me, I will 
blow the fragrant dust from your eye. 

Sac. It would be a kindness ; but I cannot 
trust you. 

Dushm. Oh ! fear not, fear not. A new ser- 
vant never transgresses the command of his 
mistress. 

Sac. But a servant over-assiduous deserves no 
confidence. 

Dushm. [Aside.] I will not let slip this charm- 
ing occasion. — [Attempting to raise her head, 
Sacontala faintly repels him, but sits stilly O 
damsel with an antelope's eyes, be not appre- 
hensive of my indiscretion. — [Sacontala looks up 
for a moment, and then bashfully drops Iter head. 
Dushmanta, aside, gently raising her head.] — 
That lip, the softness of which is imagined, not 
proved, seems to pronounce, with a delightful 
tremour, its permission for me to allay my 
thirst. 

Sac, The son of my lord seems inclined to 
break his promise. 

Dushm. Beloved, I was deceived by the prox - 



OR, THE FATAL RING, 71 

mity of the lotos to that eye which equals it in 
brightness. [He blows gently on her eye. 

Sac. Well : now I see a prince who keeps his 
word as it becomes his imperial character. Yet 
I am really ashamed that no desert of mine 
entitles me to the kind service of my lord's son. 

Dushm. What reward can I desire, except that 
which I consider as the greatest, the fragrance 
of your delicious lip ? 

Sac. Will that content you ? 

Dushm. The bee is contented with the mere 
odour of the w T ater lily. 

Sac. If he were not, he would get no remedy. 

Dushm. Yes, this and this. — [Kissing her eagerly. 

Behind the scenes.'] Hark ! the Chacravaca is 
calling her mate on the bank of the Malini ; the 
night is beginning to spread her shades. 

Sac. [Listening alarmed.] O son of my lord, 
the matron Gautami approaches to enquire 
after my health. Hide yourself, I entreat, behind 
yon trees. 

Dushm. I yield to necessity. [he retires* 

[Gautami enters with a vase in her hand. 

Gaut. [Looking anxiously at Sacontala.] My 
child, here is holy water for thee. — What ! hast 
thou no companion here but the invisible gods ; 
thou who art so much indisposed ? 

Sac. Both Priyamvada and Anusuya are just 
gone down to the river. 

Gaut. [Sprinkling her] Is thy fever, my child, 
a little abated ? [Feeling her hand. 



72 SACONTALA; 



Sac. Venerable matron, there is a change for 
the better. 

Gaut. Then thou art in no danger. Mayst 
thou live many years ! The day is departing ; 
let us both go to the cottage. 

Sac. [Aside, rising slowly '.] O my heart, no 
sooner hadst thou begun to taste happiness, than 
the occasion slipped away ! [She advances a few 
steps, and returns to the arbour^] — O bower of 
twining plants, by whom my sorrows have been 
dispelled, on thee I call ; ardently hoping to be 
once more happy under thy shade. 

[She goes 02 it with Gaut ami. 

DusJnn. [Returning to the bozver, and sighing^] 
How, alas, have my desires been obstructed ! 
Could I do less than kiss the lips of my charmer, 
though her modest cheeks were half averted ; lips, 
whose sweetness had enchanted me, even when 
they pronounced a denial ? Whither now can I 
go ? I will remain a while in this arbour of 
creepers, which my darling's presence has illumin- 
ated. — [Looking rounds] — Yes ; this is her seat 
on the rock, spread with blossoms, which have 
been pressed by her delicate limbs. — Here lies 
her excellent love letter on the leaf of a water 
lily ; here lay her bracelet of tender filaments 
which had fallen from her sweet wrist. — Though 
the bower of twining Vetasas be now desolate, 
since my charmer has left it, yet, while my eyes 
are fixed on all these delightful memorials of 
her, I am unable to depart. — [Musing*] — Ah ! 



OR, THE FA JAL RING. 73 



how imperfectly has this affair been conducted 
by a lover, like me, who, with his darling by his 
side, has let the occasion slip. — Should Sacontala 
visit once more this calm retreat, the opportunity 
shall not pass again unimproved ; the pleasures 
of youth are by nature transitory. — Thus my 
foolish heart forms resolutions, while it is dis- 
tracted by the sudden interruption of its happi- 
ness. Why did it ever allow me to quit without 
effeci the presence of my beloved ? 

Behind the scenes. O king, while we are begin- 
ning our evening sacrifice, the figures of blood- 
thirsty demons, embrowned by clouds collected 
at the departure of day, glide over the sacred 
hearth, and spread consternation around. 

Dnshm. Fear not, holy men. — Your king will 
proteft you. [He goes out. 



74 S AC XT A LA ; 



ACT IV. 

SCENE — A Lawn before the Cottage. 
Tlie two damsels are discovered gathering flowers. 

Anusuyd. O my Priyamvada, though our sweet 
friend has been happily married, according to the 
rites of Gandharvas, to a bridegroom equal in 
rank and accomplishments, yet my affectionate 
heart is not wholly free from care; and one doubt 
gives me particular uneasiness. 

PH. What doubt, my Anusuya? 

A nit. This morning the pious prince was dis- 
missed with gratitude by our hermits, who had 
then completed their mystick rites; he is nowgone 
to his capital, Hastinapura, where, surrounded 
by a hundred women in the recesses of his palace, 
it may be doubted whether he will remember his 
charming bride. 

PH. In that respect you may be quite easy 
Men, so well informed and well educated as he, 
can never be utterly destitute of honour. — We 
have another thing to consider. When our father 
Canna shall return from his pilgrimage, and shall 
hear what has passed, I cannot tell how he may 
receive the intelligence. 

Ann. If you ask my opinion, he will, I think, 
approve of the marriage. 

PH. Why do you think so? 



OR, THE FATAL RING. 75 

Anil. Because he could desire nothing better, 
than that a husband so accomplished and so 
exalted should take Sacontala by the hand. It 
was, you know, the declared object of his heart, 
that she might be suitably married; and, since 
heaven has done for him what he most wished to 
do, how can he possibly be dissatisfied ? 

Pri. You reason well; but — [Looking at Iter 
baskei\ — my friend, we have plucked a sufficient 
store of flowers to scatter over the place of sacri- 
fice. 

Ami. Let us gather more to decorate the 
temples of the goddesses who have procured for 
Sacontala so much good fortune. 

[They both gather more flowers. 

Behind the scenes. It is I Hola ! 

Ann. [Listening.] I hear the voice, as it seems, 
of a guest arrived in the hermitage. 

Pri. Let us hasten thither. Sacontala is now 
reposing; but though we may, when she wakes, 
enjoy her presence, yet her mind will all day be 
absent with her departed lord. 

Ann. Be it so ; but we have occasion, you 
know, for all these flowers. [They advance. 

Again behind the scenes. How! dost thou show 
no attention to a guest? Then hear my impre- 
cations — " He on whom thou art meditating, on 
" whom alone thy heart is now fixed, while thou 
" neglectest a pure gem of devotion who demands 
" hospitality, shall forget thee, when thou seest 
'• him next, as a man restored to sobriety forgets 

F 2 



76 SAC0N7ALA; 



•' the words which he uttered in a state of intoxi- 
" cation." 

[Both damsels look at each other with affliction. 

PrL Wo is me ! Dreadful calamity ! Our 
beloved friend has, through mere absence of 
mind, provoked by her neglect, some holy man 
who expected reverence. 

Ann. [Looking.] It must be so ; for the chol- 
erick Durvasas is going hastily back. 

PrL Who else has power to consume, like 
raging fife, whatever offends him ? Go, my 
Anusiiya; fall at his feet, and persuade him, if 
possible, to return : in the meantime, I will 
prepare water and refreshments for him. 

Ann. I go with eagerness. [She goes ont. 

PrL [Advancing hastily \ her foot slips.] Ah! 
through my eager haste I have let the basket 
fall; and my religious duties must not be post- 
poned. [She gathers fresh flowers. 
A n u s u yd re -en tei s. 

Ann. His wrath, my beloved, passes all bounds. 
— Who living could now appease him by the 
humblest prostrations or entreaties? yet at last 
he a little relented. 

PrL That little is a great deal for him. — But 
inform me how you soothed him in any degree. 

Anu. When he positively refused to come 
back, I threw myself at his feet, and thus ad- 
dressed him: "Holy sage, forgive, I entreat, 
" the offence of an amiable girl, who has the 
" highest veneration for you, but was ignorant, 



OR, 7 HE FATAL RING. 77 

<( through distraction of mind, how exalted a 
" personage was calling to her." 

Pri. What then ? What said he ? 

Ann, He answered thus: " My word must not 
" be recalled ; but the spell which it has raised 
" shall be wholly removed when her lord shall 
" see his ring." Saying this, he disappeared. 

Pri. We may now have confidence ; for before 
the monarch departed, he fixed with his own 
hand on the finger of Sacontala the ring, on 
which we saw the name of Dushmanta engraved, 
and which we will instantly recognize. On him 
therefore alone will depend the remedy for our 
misfortune. 

Ann. Come, let us now proceed to the shrines 
of the goddesses, and implore their succour. 

{Both advance. 

Pri. [Looking^ See, my Anusuya, where our 
beloved friend sits, motionless as a picture, sup- 
porting her languid head with her left hand. 
With a mind so intent on one object, she can pay 
no attention to herself, much less to a stranger. 

Ann. Let the horrid imprecation, Priyamvada, 
remain a secret between us two ; we must spare 
the feelings of our beloved, who is naturally 
susceptible of quick emotions. 

Pri. Who would pour boiling water on the 
blossom of a tender Mallica. [Both go out. 

A Pupil of Canna enters. 

Pup. I am ordered by the venerable Canna, 
who is returned from the place of his pilgrimage, 



78 SACONTALA: 



to observe the time of the night, and am, there- 
fore, come forth to see how much remains of it. 
[ Walking round, and observing the heavens?^ — On 
one side, the moon, who kindles the flowers of 
the Oshadhi, has nearly sunk in his western bed ; 
and, on the other, the sun, seated behind his 
charioteer Arun, is beginning his course ; the 
lustre of them both is conspicuous, when they 
rise and when they set ; and by their example 
should men be equally firm in prosperous and in 
adverse fortune. — The moon has now disappeared, 
and the night flower pleases no more ; it leaves 
only a remembrance of its odour, and languishes 
like a tender bride whose pain is intolerable in 
the absence of her beloved. — The ruddy morn 
impurples the dew drops on the branches of yon- 
der Vadari ; the peacock, shaking off sleep, 
hastens from the cottages of hermits interwoven 
with holy grass ; and yonder antelope, springing 
hastily from the place of sacrifice, which is marked 
with his hoofs, raises himself on high, and stretches 
his graceful limbs. — How is the moon fallen 
from the sky with diminished beams ! the moon 
who had set his foot on the head of Sumeru, 
king of mountains, and had climbed, scattering 
the rear of darkness, even to the central palace 
of Vishnu ! — Thus do the great men of this world 
ascend with extreme labour to the summit of 
ambition, but easily and quickly descend from it. 
A n u s u \ - A ( a /c °rs mt dita ting. 
Ann. [Aside.] Such has been the affection of 



OR, THE FA TAL RIXG. 



Sacontala, though she was bred in austere de- 
votion, averse from sensual enjoyments ! — How 
unkind was the king to leave her ! 

Pup. [Aside.] The proper time is come for 
performing the homa : I must apprise our pre- 
ceptor of it. [He goes out 

Ann. The shades of night are dispersed ; and I 
am hardly awake ; but were I ever so perfectly 
in my senses, what could I now do ? My hands 
move not readily to the usual occupations of the 
morning. — Let the blame be cast on love, on 
love only, by whom our friend has been reduced 
to her present condition, through a monarch who 
has broken his word. — Or does the imprecation 
of Durvasas already prevail ? — How else could a 
virtuous king, who made so solemn an engage- 
ment, have suffered so long a time to elapse with- 
out sending even a message ? — Shall we convey 
the fatal ring to him ? — Or what expedient can 
be suggested for the relief of t lifts incomparable 
girl, who mourns without ceasing ? — Yet what 
fault has she committed ? — With all my zeal for 
her happiness, I cannot summon courage enough 
to inform our father Canna that she is pregnant 
What then, oil ! what step can I take to relieve 
her anxiety ? 

Priyamvada enters. 

Pri, Come, Anusuya, come quickly. They 
are making suitable preparations for conducting 
Sacontala to her husband's palace. 

Ann. [With surprise,] What say you, my 
friend ? 



So SACONTALA; 



Pri. Hear me. I went just now to Sacontaki, 
meaning only to ask if she had slept well. — 

Anu. What then ? oh ! what then ? 

Pri. She was sitting with her head bent on her 
knee, when our father Canna, entering her apart- 
ment, embraced and congratulated her. — " My 
"sweet child," said he, "there has been a happy 
" omen ; the young Brahmen who officiated in 
" our morning sacrifice, though his sight was 
" impeded by clouds of smoke, dropped the 
" clarified butter into the very centre of the 
" adorable flame. — Now, since the pious act of 
" my pupil has prospered, my foster child must 
" not be suffered any longer to languish in sor- 
" row ; and this day I am determined to send 
" thee from the cottage of the old hermit who 
" bred thee up, to the palace of the monarch who 
" has taken thee by the hand." 

Ann. My friend, w T ho told Canna what passed 
in his absence ? 

Pri. When he entered the place where the 
holy fire was blazing, he heard a voice from 
heaven pronouncing divine measures. — 

Anu. [A mazed, .] Ah! you astonish me. 

Pri. Hear the celestial verse : — " Know that 
" thy adopted daughter, O pious Brahmen, has 
" received from Dushmanta a ray of glory des- 
u tined to rule the world; as the wood Sami 
" becomes pngnant with mysterious fire." 

Ann. [Embracing Priyamvadd?[ I am de- 
lighted, my belovc \ ; I am transported with joy. 



OR, THE FA TAL RING. 



But — since they mean to deprive us of our 
friend so soon as to day, I feel that my delight 
is at least equalled by my sorrow. 

Pri. Oh ! we must submit patiently to the 
anguish of parting. Our beloved friend will now 
be happy ; and that should console us. 

Ami. Let us now make haste to dress her in 
bridal array. I have already, for that purpose, 
filled the shell of a cocoa nut, which you see 
fixed on an Amra tree, with the fragrant dust of 
Nagacesaras ; take it down, and keep it in a 
fresh lotos leaf, whilst I collect some Gorachana 
from the forehead of a sacred cow, some earth 
from consecrated ground, and some fresh Cusa 
grass, of which I will make a paste to ensure good 
fortune. 

Pri. By all means. \She takes down the per- 
fume. — Anusuya goes out. 

Beliind the scenes. O Gautami, bid the two 
Misras, Sarngarava and Saradwata, make ready 
to accompany my child Sacontaia. 

Pri. [Listening.] Lose no time, Anusuya, lose 
no time. Our father Canna is giving orders for 
the intended journey to Hastinapura. 
Anusuya re-enters with the ingredients of Iter 
charm. 

Ann. I am here ; let us go, my Priyamvada. 

\Tlicy both advance. 

Pri. [Looking^ There stands our Sacontaia, 
after her bath at sunrise, while many holy women, 
who are congratulating her, carry baskets of 
hallowed grain. — Let us hasten to greet her. 






82 SACONTALA; 



Enter. Sacontala Gautami, and female Hermits, 

Sac. I prostrate myself before the goddess. 

Gaul. My child, thou canst not pronounce too 
often the word goddess : thus wilt thou procure 
great felicity for thy lord. 

Ilerm. Mayst thou, O royal bride, be delivered 
of a hero. \The Hermits go out. 

Botli damsels. \Approadiing Sacontala.] Be- 
loved friend, was your bath pleasant ? 

Sac. O ! my friends, you are welcome : let us 
sit awhile together. [They scat themselves. 

A Ji?i. Now you must be patient, whilst I bind 
on a charm to secure your happiness. 

Sac. That is kind. — Much has been decided 
this day ; and the pleasure of being thus attended 
by my sweet friends will not soon return, 

[ Wiping off Iter tears. 

Pri. Beloved, it is unbecoming to weep at a 
tilne when you are going to be so happy. — [Both 
damsels burst into tears as they dress Iter.] — Your 
elegant person deserves richer apparel ; it is now 
decorated with such rude flowers as we could 
procure in this forest. 

Carina's Pupil en te rs w ith rich do t/ies. 

J y up. Here is a complete dress. Let the queen 

wear it auspiciously ; and may her life be long ! 

[The women look with astonishmetit. 

Gaut. My son, Ilanta, whence came this 
apparel ? 

J' up. From the devotion of our father Canna. 

Gaut What dost thou mean ? 



OR, 7 HE FATAL RING. 83 

Pup. Be attentive. The venerable sage gave 
this order : u Bring fresh flowers for Sacontala 
" from the most beautiful trees ; " and suddenly 
the wood nymphs appeared, raising their hands, 
which rivalled new leaves in beauty and softness. 
Some of them wove a lower mantle bright as the 
moon, the presage of her felicity ; another 
pressed the juice of Lacsha to stain her feet ex- 
quisitely red ; the rest were busied in forming 
the gayest ornaments ; and they eagerly showered 
their gifts on us. 

Pri. [Looking at Sacontala.] Thus it is, that 
even the bee, whose nest is within the hollow 
trunk, does homage to the honey of the lotos 
flower. 

Gaut. The nymphs must have been commis- 
sioned by the goddess of the king's fortune, to 
predict the accession of brighter ornaments in his 
palace. [Sacontala looks modest. 

Pup. I must hasten to Canna, who has gone 
to bathe in the Malini, and let him know the 
signal kindness of the wood nymphs. 

[He goes out. 

Aim. My sweet friend, I little expected so 
splendid a dress : — how .shall I adjust it pro- 
perly ? — [Considering^ — Oh ! my skill in painting 
will supply me with some hints ; and I will dis- 
pose the drapery according to art. 

Sac. I well know your affection for him. 
Canna enters meditating. 

Can. [Aside.] This day must Sacontala depart: 



84 SACONTAIA; 



that is resolved ; yet my soul is smitten with 
anguish. — My speech is interrupted by a torrent 
of tears, which my reason suppresses and turns 
inward : my very sight is dimmed. — Strange 
that the affliction of a forester, retired from the 
haunts of men, should bz so excessive ! — Oh ! 
with what pangs must they who are fathers of 
families, be afflicted on the departure of a 
daughter ! \_He walks round musing. 

Pri. Now, my Sacontala, you are becomingly 
decorated ; put on the lower vest, the gift of 
sylvan goddesses. 

[Sacontala rises, and puts on the mantle. 

Gaut. My child, thy spiritual father, whose 
eyes overflow with tears of joy, stands desiring 
to embrace thee. Hasten, therefore, to do him 
reverence. [Sacontala modestly bozos to him. 

Can. Mayst thou be cherished by thy husband, 
as Sarmishtha w r as cherished by Yayati ! Mayst 
thou bring forth a sovereign of the world, as she 
brought forth Puru ! 

Gaut. This, my child, is not a mere benedic- 
tion ; it is a boon actually conferred. 

Can. My best beloved, come and walk with 
me round the sacrificial fire. — [They all advance^ 
— May these fires preserve thee ! Fires which 
spring to their appointed stations on the holy 
hearth, and consume the consecrated wood, while 
the fresh blades of mysterious Cusa lie scattered 
around them !— Sacramental fires, which destroy 
sin with the rising fumes of clarified butter! — 



OR, THE FA TAL RING. S$ 

[Sacontala walks with solemnity round the hearth?[ 
— Now set out, my darling, on thy auspicious 
journey. — [Looking round.]— -Where are the at- 
tendants, the two Misras ? 

Enter Sarngarava and Saradwata. 

Both. Holy sage, we are here. 

Can. My son, Sarngarava, show thy sister her 
way. 

Sam. Come damsel. [They all advance. 

Can. Hear, all ye trees of this hallowed forest; 
ye trees, in which the sylvan goddesses have 
their abode ; hear, and proclaim, that Sacontala 
is going to the palace of her wedded lord ; she 
who drank not, though thirsty, before you were 
watered ; she who cropped not, through affection 
for you, one of your fresh leaves, though she 
would have been pleased with such an ornament 
for her locks ; she whose chief delight was in the 
season when your branches are spangled with 
flowers ! 

CHORUS of invisible WOOD-NYMPHS. 

May her way be attended with prosperity ! 
May propitious breezes sprinkle for her delight, 
the odoriferous dust of rich blossoms ! May 
pools of clear water, green with the leaves of 
the lotos, refresh her as she walks ! and may 
shady branches be her defence from the scorching 
sunbeams ! [All listen with admiration. 

Sam. Was that the voice of the Cocila wishing 
a happy journey to Sacontala? — Or did the 
nymphs, who are allied to the pious inhabitants 



86 SACONTALA; 



of these woods, repeat the warbling of the 
musical bird, and make its greeting their own ? 
Gaut. Daughter, the sylvan goddesses, who 

love their kindred hermits, have wished you 
prosperity, and are entitled to humble thanks. 

Sacontala walks round, bowing to the nymphs. 

Sac. [Aside to Priyamvada.] Delighted as I 
am, O Priyamvada, with the thought of seeing 
again the son of my lord, yet, on leaving this 
grove, my early asylum, I am scarce able to 
walk. 

Pri. You lament not alone. — Mark the afflic- 
tion of the forest itself when the time of your 
departure approaches ! — The female antelope 
browses no more on the collected Cusa grass ; 
and the pea-hen ceases to dance on the lawn ; 
the very plants of the grove, whose pale leaves 
fall on the ground, lose their strength and their 
beauty. 

Sac. Venerable father, suffer me to address 
this Madhavi creeper, whose red blossoms in- 
flame the grove. 

Can. My child, I know thy affection for it. 

Sac. [Embracing the plant!] O most radiant 
of twining plants, receive my embraces, and re- 
turn them with thy flexible arms; from this day, 
though removed to a fatal distance, I shall for 
ever be thine. — O beloved father, consider this 
creeper as my sell. 

Can. My darling, thy amiable qualities have 
gained thee a husband equal to thyself; such an 



OR, THE FATAL RING. S7 

event has been long, for thy sake, the chief ob- 
ject of my heart ; and now, since my solicitude 
for thy marriage is at an end, I will marry 
thy favourite plant to the bridegroom Amra, 
who sheds fragrance near her. — Proceed, my 
child, on thy journey. 

Sac. [Approaching the two damselsl\ Sweet 
friends, let this Madhavi creeper be a precious 
deposit in your hands. 

Ann. and Pri. Alas! in whose care shall we 
b e left. [T/uy both weep. 

Can. Tears are in vain, Anusuya : our Sacon- 
tala ought rather to be supported by your firm - 
ness, than weakened by your weeping. 

[All advance. 

Sac. Father ! when yon female antelope, who 
now moves slowlv from the weight of the young 
ones with which she is pregnant, shall be de- 
livered of them, send me, I beg, a kind message 
with tidings of her safety. — Do not forget. 

Can. My beloved, I will not forget it. 

Sac. [Advancing, then stopping^ Ah ! what 
is it that clings to the skirts of my robe, and 
detains me ? [She turns round and looks. 

Can. It is thy adopted child, the little fawn, 
whose mouth, when the sharp points of Cusa 
grass had wounded it, has been so often smeared 
by thy hand with the healing oil of Ingudi ; who 
has been so often fed by thee with a handful of 
Syamaka grains, and now will not leave the foot- 
steps of his protectress. 



88 SACONTALA; 



Sac, Why dost thou weep, tender fawn, for 
me, who must leave our common dwelling-place ? 
— As thou wast reared by me when thou hadst 
lost thy mother, who died soon after thy birth, 
so will my foster-father attend thee, when we are 
separated, with anxious care. — Return, poor 
thing, return — we must part. 

[She bursts into tears. 

Can. Thy tears, my child, ill suit the occasion: 
we shall all meet again : be firm : see the direct 
road before thee, and follow it. — When the big 
tear lurks beneath thy beautiful eyelashes, let 
thy resolution check its first efforts to disengage 
itself. — In thy passage over this earth, where the 
paths are now high, now low, and the true path 
seldom distinguished, the traces of thy feet must 
needs be unequal; but virtue will press thee right 
onward. 

Sam. It is a sacred rule, holy sage, that a 
benevolent man should accompany a traveller 
till he meet with abundance of water; and that 
rule you have carefully observed : we arc now 
near the brink of a large pool. Give us, there- 
fore, your commands, and return. 

Can. Let us rest awhile under the shade of 
this Vata tree. — [They all go to the shaded — What 
message can I send with propriety to the noble 
Dushmanta ? [He meditates. 

Ann. [Aside to Sacontaki.] My beloved friend, 
every heart in our asylum is fixed on you alone, 
and all are afilicted by your departure. — Look, 



OR, THE FATAL RING. 



the bird Chacravaca, called by his mate, who is 
almost hidden by water lilies, gives her no an- 
swer; but having dropped from his bill the fibres 
of lotos stalks which he had plucked, gazes on 
you with inexpressible tenderness. 

Can. My son Sarngarava, remember, when 
thou shalt present Sacontala to the king, to 
address him thus in my name: " Considering us 
" hermits as virtuous, indeed^ but rich only in 
" devotion, and considering also thy own exalted 
" birth, retain thy love for this girl, which arose 
" in thy bosom without any interference of her 
" kindred ; and look on her among thy wives with 
" the same kindness which they experience ; more 
" than that cannot be demanded ; since particular 
n affection must depend on the will of heaven." 

Sam. Your message, venerable man, is deeply 
rooted in my remembrance. 

Can. [Looking tenderly at Sacontala.] Now, 
my darling, thou too must be gently admonished. 
We, who are humble foresters, are yet acquainted 
with the world which we have forsaken. 

Sam. Nothing can be unknown to the wise. 
Can. Hear, my daughter — When thou art 
settled in the mansion of thy husband, show due 
reverence to him, and to those whom he reveres : 
though he have other wives, be rather an affec- 
tionate handmaid to them than a rival. — Should 
he displease thee, let not thy resentment lead 
thee to disobedience. — In thy conduct to thy 
domesticks be rigidly just and impartial ; and 

G 



9o < A CON T ALA 



seek not eagerly thy own gratifications. — By such 
behaviour young women become respectable; 
but perverse wives are the bane of a family. — 
What thinks Gautami of this lesson ? 

Gaut. It is incomparable : — my child, be sure 
to remember it. 

Can. Come, my beloved girl, give a parting 
embrace to me and to thy tender companions. 

Sac. Must Anusiiya and Priyamvada return to 
the hermitage ? 

Can. They too, my child, must be suitably 
married ; and it would not be proper for them 
yet to visit the city; but Gautami will accompany 
thee. 

Sac. {Embracing hint.] Removed from the 
bosom of my father, like a young sandal tree, 
rent from the hills of Malaya, how shall I exist 
in a strange soil ? 

Can. Be not so anxious. When thou shalt be 
mistress of a family, and consort of a king, thou 
mayst, indeed, be occasionally perplexed by the 
intricate affairs which arise from exuberance of 
wealth, but wilt then think lightly of this transient 
affliction, especially when thou shalt have a son 
(and a son thou wilt have) bright as the rising 
day-star. — Know also with certainty that the 
body must necessarily, at the appointed moment, 
be separated from the soul : who, then, can be 
immoderately afflicted, when the weaker bounds 
of extrinsick relations are loosened, or even 
broken. 



OR, THE FATAL RING. 91 

Sac. {Falling at his feel.] My father, I thus 
humbly declare my veneration for you. 

Can. Excellent girl, may my effort for thy 
happiness prove successful. 

Sac. [Approaching her two companions^ Come, 
then, my beloved friends, embrace me together. 

[They embrace her. 

Ami. My friend, if the virtuous monarch 
should not at once recollect you, only show him 
the ring on which his own name is engraved. 

Sac. [Starting?^ My heart flutters at the bare 
apprehension which you have raised. 

Pri. Fear not, sweet Sacontala : love ahvays 
raises ideas of misery, which are seldom or never 
realised. 

Sam. Holy sage, the sun has risen to a con- 
siderable height ; let the queen hasten her 
departure. 

Sac. {Again embracing Canna.] When, my 
father, oh ! when again shall I behold this asylum 
of virtue ? 

Can. Daughter, when thou shalt long have 
been wedded, like this fruitful earth, to the pious 
monarch, and shalt have borne him a son, whose 
car shall be matchless ia battle, thy lord shall 
transfer to him the burden of empire, and thou, 
with thy Dushmanta, shalt again seek tranquillity, 
before thy final departure, in this loved and con- 
secrated grove. 

Gant. My child, the proper time for our journey 
passes away rapidly : suffer thy father to return. 

G 2 



92 SACONTALA; 



— Go, venerable man, go back to thy mansion, 
from which she is doomed to be so long absent. 

Can. Sweet child, this delay interrupts my 
religious duties. 

Sac. You, my father, will perform them long 
without sorrow ; but I, alas ! am destined to 
bear affliction. 

Can. O ! my daughter, compel me not to 
neglect my daily devotions. — [Sighing] No, my 
sorrow will not be diminished. — Can it cease, 
my beloved, when the plants which rise luxu- 
riantly from the hallowed grains which thy hand 
has strewn before my cottage, are continually in 
my sight ? Go, may thy journey prosper. 

Sacontala goes out with Gautami and the two 
Misras. 

Both D anise Is. [Looking after Sacontala with 
anguish.] Alas ! alas ! our beloved is hidden by 
the thick trees. 

Can. My children, since your friend is at length 
departed, check your immoderate grief, and fol- 
low me. [They all turn back. 

Both. Holy father, the grove will be a perfect 
vacuity without Sacontala. 

Can. Your affection will certainly give it that 
appearance. — [lie walks round meditating] — Ah 
me ! — Yes; at last my weak mind has attained its 
due firmness after the departure of my Sacon- 
tala. — In truth a daughter must sooner or later 
be the property of another ; and, having now 
sent her to her lord, 1 find my soul clear and 



OR, THE FA TAL RING, 93 

undisturbed, like that of a man who has restored 
to its owner an inestimable deposit which he long 
had kept with solicitude. {They go out. 






ACT V. 

Scene — The Palace. 

An old Chamberlain, sighing. 

Chamberlain. 

Alas ! what a decrepit old age have I attained ! — 
This wand, which I first held for the discharge 
of my customary duties in the secret apartments 
of my prince, is now my support, whilst I walk 
feebly through the multitude of years which I 
have passed. — I must now mention to the king, 
as he goes through the palace, an event which 
concerns himself : it must not be delayed. — 
{Advancing slowly ?\ — What is it ? — Oh! I recol- 
lect ; the devout pupils of Canna desire an 
audience. — How strange a thing is human life ! 
— The intellects of an old man seem at one time 
luminous, and then on a sudden are involved in 
darkness, like the flame of a lamp at the point of 
extinction. {He walks round and looks.] — There 
is Dushmanta ; he has been attending to his 
people, as to his own family ; and now with a 
tranquil heart seeks a solitary chamber ; as an 
elephant the chief of his herd, having grazed the 
whole morning, and being heated by the meridian 



94 SACOXTALAj 



s repairs to a cool station during the oppres- 
sive heats. — Since the king is just risen from his 
tribunal, and must be fatigued, I am almost afraid 
to inform him at present that Canna's pupils are 
arrived ; yet how should they who support 
nations enjoy rest ? — The sun yokes his bright 
steeds for the labour of many hours ; the gale 
breathes by night and b] day; the prince of 
serpents continually sustain^ th* vveight of this 
earth ; and equally incessant is the toil of that 
man, whose revenue arises from a sixth part of 
his people's income. [He walks about. 

Enter Dushmanta, Madhavya, and Attendants. 

DusJim. [Looking oppressed with bnsiness?\ 
Every petitioner having attained justice, is de- 
parted happy; but kings who perform their duties 
conscientiously are afflicted without end. — The 
anxiety of acquiring dominion gives extreme 
pain ; and when it is firmly established, the cares 
of supporting the nation incessantly harass the 
sovereign ; as a large umbrella, of which a man 
carries the staff in his own hand, fatigues while it 
shades him. 

Behind the scenes. May the king be victorious ! 
Two Bards repeat stanzas. 

First Bard. Thou seekest not thy own plea- 
sure : no ; it is for the people that thou art 
harassed from day to day. Such, when thou 
wast created, was the disposition implanted in 
thy soul ! Thus a branchy tree bears on his 
head the scorching sunbeams while his broad 






OR, THE FATAL RING. % 

shade allays the fever of those who seek shelter 
under him. 

Second Bard. When thou wield est the rod of 
justice, thou bringest to order all those who have 
deviated from the path of virtue : thou biddest 
contention cease : thou wast formed for the 
preservation of thy people .: thy kindred possess, 
indeed, considerable wealth ; but so boundless is 
thy affection, that all thy subjects are considered 
by thee as thy kinsmen. 

D us Jim. [Listening.] That sweet poetry re- 
freshes me after the toil of giving judgments 
and publick orders. 

Mddk. Yes ; as a tired bull is refreshed when 
the people say, "There goes the lord of cattle." 

DusJim. [Sini/ing.] Oh ! art thou here, my 
friend : let us take our seats together. 
\TJie king and Madhavya sit down. — Micsick 
behind the scenes?^ 

Mddh. Listen, my royal friend. I hear a well 
tuned Vina sounding, as if it were in concert 
with the lutes of the gods, from yonder apart- 
ment. — The queen Hansamati is preparing, I 
imagine, to greet you with a new song. 

Dushm. Be silent, that J may listen. 
CJiam. [Aside.] The king's mind seems intent 
on some other business. I must wait his leisure. 

\_Retii"ing on one side. 

SONG. \Beliind tlie scenes^] 

" Sweet bee, who, desirous of extracting fresh 



96 SACONTALA: 



u honey, wast wont to kiss the soft border of the 
"new-blown Amra flower, how canst thou now 
" be satisfied with the water lily, and forget the 
" first object of thy love ? " 

Dushm. The ditty breathes a tender passion. 

Mddli. Does the king know its meaning? It 
is too deep for me. 

Dushm, [Smiling.] I was once in love with 
Hansamati, and am now reproved for continuing 
so long absent from her. — Friend Madhavya, in- 
form the queen in my name that I feel the reproof. 

Mddli. As the king commands; but [Ris- 
ing slowly.] — My friend, you are going to seize a 
sharp lance with another man's hand. I cannot 
relish your commission to an enraged woman. 
— A hermit cannot be happy till he has taken 
leave of all passions whatever. 

Dushm. Go, my kind friend; the urbanity of 
thy discourse will appease her. 

MddJi. What an errand! [He goes out. 

Dushm. [Aside.'] Ah ! what makes me so 
melancholy on hearing a mere song on absence, 
when I am not in fact separated from any real 
object of my affection? — Perhaps the sadness of 
men, otherwise happy, on seeing beautiful forms 
and listening to sweet melody, arises from some 
faint remembrance of past joys and the traces of 
connections in a former state of existence. 

[fie sits pensive and sorrowful. 

Cham. [Advancing humbly^] May our sove- 
reign be victorious! — Two religious men, with 



OR, THE FATAL RING. 97 

some women, are come from their abode in a 
forest near the Snowy Mountains, and bring a 
message from Canna. — The king will command. 

Dushm. [Surprised?^ What ! are pious her- 
mits arrived in the company of women? 

Cham. It is even so. 

Dushm. Order the priest Somarata, in my 
name, to shew them due reverence in the form 
appointed by the Veda ; and bid him attend me. 
I shall wait for my holy guests in a place fit for 
their reception. 

Cham. I obey. [He goes out. 

Dushm. Wardour, point the way to the hearth 
of the consecrated fire. 

Ward. This, O king, this is the way. — [He 
walks before^] — Here is the entrance of the hal- 
lowed enclosure ; and there stands the venerable 
cow to be milked for the sacrifice, looking bright 
from the recent sprinkling of mystick water. — Let 
the king ascend. 

[Dushmanta is raised to the place of sacrifice on 
the shoulders of his Wardours.] 

Dushm. What message can the pious Canna 
haye sent me? — Has the devotion of his pupils 
been impeded by evil spirits — or by what other 
calamity? — Or has any harm, alas ! befallen the 
poor herds who graze in the hallowed forest ? — 
Or have the sins of the king tainted the flowers 
and fruits of the creepers planted by female her- 
mits? My mind is entangled in a labyrinth of 
confused apprehensions. 



9S SACONTALA: 



// ard. What our sovereign imagines, cannot 
possibly have happened ; since the hermitage has 
been rendered secure from evil by the mere sound 
of his bowstring. The pious men, whom the 
king's benevolence has made happy, are come, I 
presume, to do him homage. 
Enter Sarngarava, Saradwata, and Gautami, 
leading Sacontala by the hand; and before 
them the old Chamberlain and the Priest. 

Cham. This way, respectable strangers ; come 
this way. 

Sam. My friend Saradwata, there sits the 
king of men, who has felicity at command, 
yet shows equal respect to all: here no subject, 
even of the lowest class, is received with con- 
tempt. Nevertheless, my soul having ever been 
free from attachment to worldly things, I con- 
sider this hearth, although a crowd now surround 
it, as the station merely of consecrated fire. 

Sdrad. I was not less confounded than your- 
self on entering the populous city; but now I 
look on it, as a man just bathed in pure water, 
on a man smeared with oil and dust, as the pure 
on the impure, as the waking on the sleeping^ as 
the free man on the captive, as the independent 
on the slave. 

Priest Thence it is, that men, like you two, 
are so elevated above other mortals. 

Sac. [Perceiving a bad omen.] Venerable 
mother, 1 feel my right eye throb! What means 
this involuntary motion? 



OR, 7 HE FATAL RING. 99 

Gaitt. Heaven avert the omen, my sweet 
child! May every delight attend thee! 

[They all advance. 

Priest. [Shewing the king to them.] There, 
holy men, is the protector of the people ; who 
has taken his seat, and expects you. 

Sam. This is what we wished ; yet we have 
no private interest in the business. It is ever 
thus : trees are bent by the abundance of their 
fruit ; clouds are brought low, when they teem 
with salubrious rain ; and the real benefactors of 
mankind are not elated by riches. 

Ward. O king, the holy guests appear before 
you with placid looks, indicating their affection. 

Dnslim. [Gazing at Sacontala] Ah ! what 
damsel is that, whose mantle conceals the far 
greater part of her beautiful form ? She looks, 
among the hermits, like a fresh green bud among 
faded and yellow leaves, 

Ward. This at least, O king, is apparent ; that 
she has a form which deserves to be seen more 
distinctly. 

Dushm. Let her still be covered ; she seems 
pregnant ; and the wife of another must not be 
seen even by me. 

Sac. [Aside, with her hand to her bosom.] O 
my heart, why dost thou palpitate ? — Remember 
the beginning of thy lord's affection, and be 
tranquil. 

Priest. May the king prosper ! The respec- 
table guests have been honoured as the law or- 



ioo SACONTALA: 



dains ; and they have now a message to deliver 
from their spiritual guide ; let the king deign to 
hear it. 

Duslim. [ WitJi reverence^ I am attentive. 

Both Misras. [Extending their liauds.] Vic- 
tory attend thy banners ! 

DusJim. I respectfully greet you both. 

Both. Blessings on our sovereign ! 

Duslim. Has your devotion been uninterrupted ? 

Sam. How should our rites be disturbed, when 
thou art the preserver of all creatures ? How, 
when the bright sun blazes, should darkness 
cover the world ? 

Duslim. [Aside] The name of royalty pro- 
duces, I suppose, all worldly advantages ! — 
[A loud.] — Does the holy Canna then prosper ? 

Sam. O king, they who gather the fruits of 
devotion may command prosperity. He first in- 
quires affectionately whether thy arms are suc- 
cessful, and then addresses thee in these words: — 

Duslim. What are his orders ? 

Sdrn. " The contract of marriage, reciprocally 
" made between thee and this girl, my daughter, 
" I confirm with tender regard ; since thou art 
" celebrated as the most honourable of men, and 
" my Sacontala is Virtue herself in a human 
" form, no blasphemous complaint will henceforth 
"be made against Brahma for suffering dis- 
" cordant matches : he has now united a bride 
"and bridegroom with qualities equally trans- 
" cendent. — Since, therefore, she is pregnant by 



OR, THE FATAL RING. 101 

" thee, receive her in thy palace, that she may 
" perform, in conjunction with thee, the duties 
" prescribed by religion." 

Gaut. Great king, thou hast a mild aspect ; 
and I wish to address thee in few words. 

Dushm. [Smiling.] Speak, venerable matron. 

Gaut. She waited not the return of her spiritual 
father ; nor were thy kindred consulted by thee. 
You two only were present, when your nuptials 
were solemnized ; now, therefore, converse freely 
together in the absence of all others. 

Sac. [Aside.] What will my lord say ? 

Dushm. [Aside, perplexed^] How strange an 
adventure ! 

Sac. [Aside.] Ah me ! how disdainfully he 
seems to receive the message ! 

Sam. [Aside.] What means that phrase which 
I overheard, " How strange an adventure ?" — 
[Aloud.] — Monarch, thou knowest the hearts of 
men. Let a wife behave ever so discreetly, the 
world will think ill of her, if she live only with 
her paternal kinsmen ; and a lawful wife now re- 
quests, as her kindred also humbly entreat, that 
whether she be loved or not, she may pass her 
days in the mansion of her husband. 

Dushm. What sayest thou ? — Am I the lady's 
husband ? 

Sac. . [Aside with anguish^] O my heart, thy 
fears have proved just. 

Sam. Does it become a magnificent prince to 
depart from the rules of religion and honour, 
merely because he repents of his engagements ? 



S A CO XT ALA; 



Dushm. With what hope of success could this 
groundless fable have been invented ? 

Sdrn. [Angrily.] The minds of those whom 
power intoxicates are perpetually changing. 

Dushm. I am reproved with too great severity. 

Gaut. [To Saeouta/d.] Be not ashamed, my 
sweet child ; let me take off thy mantle, that the 
king may recollect thee. [She unveils her. 

Dushm. [Aside, looking at Sacontala.] While 
I am doubtful whether this unblemished beauty 
which is displayed before me has not been pos- 
sessed by another, I resemble a bee fluttering at 
the close of night over a blossom filled with dew; 
and in this state of mind, I neither can enjoy nor 
forsake her. 

Ward. [Aside to Dushmanta.] The king best 
knows his rights and his duties ; but who would 
hesitate when a woman, bright as a gem, brings 
lustre to the apartments of his palace ? 

Sdrn. What, O king, does thy strange silence 
import ? 

Dushm. Holy man, I have been meditating 
again and again, but have no recollection of my 
marriage with this lady. How then can I lay aside 
all consideration of my military tribe, and admit 
into my palace a young woman who is pregnant 
by another husband ? 

Sac. [Aside.] Ah ! Wo is me — .Can there be 
a doubt even of our nuptials ? — The tree of my 
hope, which had risen so luxuriantly, is at once 
broken down. 



OR, J HE FATAL RING. 103 

Sam. Beware, lest the godlike sage, who would 
have bestowed on thee, as a free gift, his inesti- 
mable treasure, which thou hadst taken, like a 
base robber, should now cease to think of thee, 
who art lawfully married to his daughter, and 
should confine all his thoughts to her whom thy 
perfidy disgraces. 

Sdrad. Rest awhile, my Sarngarava, and thou 
Sacontala, take thy turn to speak ; since thy 
lord has declared his forgetfulness. 

Sac. [Aside.] If his affection has ceased, of 
what use will it be to recall his remembrance of 
me ? — Yet, if my soul must endure torment, be it 
so ; I will speak to him. — [A loud to Duslimanta?] 
— O my husband ! — [Pausing-.] — Or (if the just 
application of that sacred word be still doubted 
by thee) O son of Puru, is it becoming, that, 
having been once enamoured of me in the conse- 
crated forest, and having shown the excess of 
thy passion, thou shouldst this day deny me 
with bitter expressions. 

Dushm. [Covering his ears.] Be the crime 
removed from my soul ! — Thou hast been in- 
structed for some bad purpose to vilify me, and 
make me fall from the dignity which I have 
hitherto supported ; as a river which has burst 
its banks and altered its placid current, over- 
throws the trees that had risen aloft on them. 

Sac. If thou sayst this merely from want of 
recollection, I will restore thy memory by pro- 
ducing thy own ring, with thy name engraved on 
it! 



104 S A CO NT ALA; 



Dushm. A capital invention ! 

Sac. [Looking at her finger.} Ah me! I have 
no ring. [She fixes her eyes with anguish on 
Gautamf.] 

Gaut The fatal ring must have dropped, my 
child, from thy hand, when thou tookest up 
water to pour on thy head in the pool of 
Sachitirt'ha, near the station of Sacravatara. 

Dushm. [Smiling.] So skilful are women in 
finding ready excuses ! 

Sac. The power of Brahma must prevail : I 
will yet mention one circumstance. 

Dushm. I must submit to hear the tale. 

Sac. One day, in a grove of Vetasas, thou 
tookest water in thy hand from its natural vase 
of lotos leaves — 

Dushm. What followed ? 

Sac. At that instant a little fawn, which I had 
reared as my own child, approached thee ; and 
thou saidst with benevolence : "Drink thou 
" first, gentle fawn." He would not drink from 
the hand of a stranger, but received water eagerly 
from mine when thou saidst, with increasing 
affection: "Thus every creature loves its com- 
44 panions ; you are both foresters alike, and both 
11 alike amiable.' 1 

Dushm. By such interested and honied false- 
hoods arc the souls of voluptuaries ensnared. 

Gaut. Forbear, illustrious prince, to speak- 
harshly. She was bred in a sacred grove where 
she learned no guile. 



Off, THE FATAL RING. 105 

Dash. Pious matron, the dexterity of females, 
even when they are untaught, appears in those 
of a species different from our own. — What 
would it be if they were duly instructed ! — The 
female Cocilas, before they fly towards the firma- 
ment, leave their eggs to be hatched, and their 
young fed, by birds who have no relation to 
them. 

Sac. [ With anger ^\ Oh ! void of honour, thou 
measurest all the world by thy own bad heart. 
What prince ever resembled, or ever will re- 
semble, thee, who wearest the garb of religion 
and virtue, but in truth art a base deceiver ; like 
a deep well whose mouth is covered with smiling 
plants ! 

Dushm. [Aside.] The rusticity of her education 
makes her speak thus angrily and inconsistently 
with female decorum. — She looks indignant; her 
eye glows ; and her speech, formed of harsh 
terms, faulters as she utters them. Her lip, ruddy 
as the Bimba fruit, quivers as if it were nipped 
with frost ; and her eyebrows, naturally smooth 
and equal, are at once irregularly contracted. — 
Thus having failed in circumventing me by the 
apparent lustre of simplicity, she has recourse to 
wrath, and snaps in two the bow of Cama, which, 
if she had not belonged to another, might have 
wounded me. — [Aloud.] — The heart of Dush- 
manta, young woman, is known to all; and thine 
is betrayed by thy present demeanor. 

Sac. [Ironically.] You kings are in all cases to 

H 



io6 SACONTALA; 



be credited implicitly ; you perfectly know the 
respect which is due to virtue and to mankind ; 
while females, however modest, however virtuous, 
know nothing, and speak nothing truly. — In a 
happy hour I came hither to seek the object of 
my affection ; in a happy moment I received the 
hand of a prince descended from Puru ; a prince 
who had won my confidence by the honey of his 
words, whilst his heart concealed the weapon 
that was to pierce mine. 

[She hides her face and zvceps. 

Sam. This insufferable mutability of the king's 
temper kindles my wrath. Henceforth let all 
be circumspect before they form secret connec- 
tions : a friendship hastily contracted, w T hen both 
hearts are not perfectly known, must ere long 
become enmity. 

Dushm. Wouldst thou force me then to com- 
mit an enormous crime, relying solely on her 
smooth speeches ? 

Sam. \Scornfully!\ Thou hast heard an answer. 
— The words of an incomparable girl, who never 
learned what iniquity was, are here to receive no 
credit ; while they, whose learning consists in 
accusing others, and inquiring into crimes, are 
the only persons who speak truth ! 

Dtcslnn. O man of unimpeached veracity, I 
certainly am what thou describest ; but what 
would be gained by accusing thy female asso- 
ciate ? 

Sdrn. Eternal misery. 



OR, THE FATAL RING. 107 

Dushm. No ; misery will never be the portion 
of Puru's descendants. 

Sam. What avails our altercation ? — king, 
we have obeyed the commands of our preceptor, 
and now return. Sacontala is by law thy wife, 
whether thou desert or acknowledge her ; and 
the dominion of a husband is absolute. — Go 
before us, Gautami. 

{The two Misras and Gautamf returning. 

Sac. I have been deceived by this perfidious 
man ; bnt will you, my friends, will you also 
forsake me ? {Following them. 

Gant. {Looking back?\ My son, Sacontala, fol- 
lows us with affectionate supplications. What 
can she do here w r ith a faithless husband ; she 
who is all tenderness ? 

Sam. {Angrily to Sacontala.] O wife, who 
seest the faults of thy lord, dost thou desire in- 
dependence ? [Sacontala stops, and trembles.. 

Sdrad. Let the queen hear. If thou beest 
what the king proclaims thee, what right hast 
thou to complain ? But if thou knowest the purity 
of thy own soul, it will become thee to wait as a 
handmaid in the mansion of thy lord. Stay, 
then, where thou art ; we must return to Canna. 

Dushm. Deceive her not, holy men, with vain 
expectations. The moon opens the night flower ; 
and the sun makes the water lily blossom : each 
is confined to its own object: and thus a virtuous 
man abstains from any connection with the wife 
of another. 

H 2 



ioS SACONTALA; 



Sdrn. Yet thou, O king, who fearest to offend 
religion and virtue, art not afraid to desert thy 
wedded wife ; pretending that the variety of thy 
publick affairs has made thee forget thy private 
contract. 

DusJwi. [To his Priest l\ I really have no remem- 
brance of any such engagement ; and I ask thee, 
my spiritual counsellor, whether of the two offences 
be the greater, to forsake my own wife, or to 
have an intercourse with the wife of another ? 

Priest. [After some deliberation^ We may 
adopt an expedient between both. 

Duslim. Let my venerable guide command. 

Priest. The young woman may dwell till her 
delivery in my house. 

Duslim. For what purpose ? 

Priest. Wise astrologers have assured the king, 
that he will be the father of an illustrious prince, 
whose dominion will be bounded by the western 
and eastern seas ; now, if the holy man's daughter 
shall bring forth a son whose hands and feet bear 
the mark of extensive sovereignty, I will do 
homage to her as my queen, and conduct her to 
the royal apartments ; if not, she shall return in 
due time to her father. 

Duslim. Be it as you judge proper. 

Priest. [Zi?SacontalcL] This way, my daughter, 
follow me. 

Sac. () earth! mild goddess, give me a place 

within thy bosom ! — [She goes out weeping with the 

J 'riest; while the two Misras go out by a diffe- 



OR, THE FATAL RING. 109 

rent way with Gautami — Dushmanta stands 
meditating on the beauty of Sacontala ; but 
the imprecation still cloicds his memory \] 

Behind the scenes. Oh ! miraculous event ! 

Dnshm. [Listening] What can have happened ? 
The Priest re-enters. 

Priest. Hear, O king, the stupendous event. 
When Canna's pupils had departed, Sacontala, 
bewailing her adverse fortune, extended her 
arms and wept ; when 

Dushm. What then ? 

Priest. A body of light, in a female shape, 
descended near Apsarastirt'ha, where the 
nymphs of heaven are worshipped ; and having 
caught her hastily in her bosom, disappeared. 

[All express astonishment. 

Dnshm. I suspected from the beginning some 
work of sorcery. — The business is over ; and it 
is needless to reason more on it. — Let thy mind 
Somarata be at rest. 

Priest. May the king be victorious ! 

[He goes out. 

Dushm. Chamberlain, I have been greatly 
harassed : and thou, Warder, go before me to a 
place of repose. 

Ward. This way ; Let the king come this 
way. 

Dushm. [Advancing, aside.] I cannot with 
all my efforts recollect my nuptials with the 
daughter of the hermit ; yet so agitated is my 
heart, that it almost induces me to believe her 
story. [All go out. 



no SACONTALA; 



ACT VI. 
Scene— A Street. 

Enter Superintendent of Police with two Officers, 
leading a man with his hands bound. 

First Officer. [Striking the Prisoner. Take 
that, Cumbhilaca, if Cumbhilaca be thy name ; 
and tell us now where thou gottest this ring, 
bright with a large gem, on which the king's 
name is engraved. 

Cumbh. [Trembling.] Spare me, I entreat your 
honours to spare me ; I am not guilty of so 
great a crime as you suspect. 

First Off. O distinguished Brahmen, didst 
thou then receive it from the king as a reward of 
some important service ? 

Cumbh. Only hear me; I am a poor fisherman 
dwelling at Sacravatara — 

Second Off. Did we ask, thou thief, about thy 
tribe or thy dwelling-place ? 

Sup. O Suchaca, let the fellow tell his own 
story. — Now conceal nothing, sirrah. 

First Off. Dost thou hear ? Do as our master 
commands. 

Cumbh. I am a man who support my family 
by catching fish in nets, or with hooks, and by 
various other contrivances. 

Sup. [Laughing.] A virtuous way of gaining 
a livelihood ! 



OR, THE FATAL RING. in 

Cumbh. Blame me not, master. The occupa- 
tion of our forefathers, how low soever, must not 
be forsaken ; and a man who kills animals for 
sale may have a tender heart though his act be 
cruel. 

Sup. Go on, go on. 

Cumbh. One day having caught a large 
Rohita fish, I cut it open, and saw this bright 
ring in its stomach ; but when I offered to sell it, 
I was apprehended by your honours. So far 
only am I guilty of taking the ring. Will you 
jiow continue beating and bruising me to death ? 

Sup. [Smelling the ring.'] It is certain, Jaluca, 
that this gem has been in the body of a fish. 
The case requires consideration ; and I will 
mention it to some of the king's household. 

Both Off. Come on cutpurse. [They advance. 

Sup. Stand here, Suchaca, at the great gate of 
the city, and wait for me, while I speak to some 
of the officers in the palace. 

Both Off. Go, Rajayucta. May the king 
favour thee. [The Superintendent goes out. 

Second Off. Our master will stay, I fear, a long 
while. 

First Off. Yes ; access to kings can only be 
had at their leisure. 

Second Off. The tips of my fingers itch, my 
friend Jaluca, to kill this cutpurse. 

Cumbh. You would put to death an innocent 
man. 

First Off. [Looking] Here comes our master 



[i2 SACONTALA; 



— The king has decided quickly. Now, Cum- 
bhilaca ; you will either see your companions 
again, or be the food of shakals and vultures. 
The Superintendent re-enters. 

Sup. Let the fisherman immediately 

Cumbh. [In an agony.'] Oh ! I am a dead 
man. 

Step. be discharged. — Hola ! set him at 

liberty. The king says he knows his innocence ; 
and his story is true. 

Second Off. As our master commands. — The 
fellow is brought back from the mansion of 
Yama, to which he was hastening. 

[Unbinding the fisherman, 

Cambh. [Bowing^] My lord, I owe my life to 
your kindness. 

Sup. Rise, friend ; and hear with delight that 
the king gives thee a sum of money equal to the 
full value of the ring ; it is a fortune to a man 
in thy station. [Giving him the money. 

Cu7?ibh. [ With raptured] I am transported 
with joy. 

First Off. This vagabond seems to be taken 
down from the stake, and set on the back of a 
state elephant. 

Secojid Off. The king I suppose, has a great 
affection for his gem. 

Sup. Not for its intrinsick value : but I guessed 
the cause of his ecstasy when he saw it. 

Both Off. What could occasion it ? 

Sup. I suspect that it called to his memory some 



OR, THE FA TAL RING. 1 1 3 

person who has a place in his heart ; for though 
his mind be naturally firm, yet, from the moment 
when he beheld the ring, he was for some 
minutes excessively agitated. 

Second Off. Our master has given the king 
extreme pleasure. 

First Off. Yes ; and by the means of this 
fish-catcher. [Looking fiercely at him. 

Cnmbh. Be not angry — Half the money shall 
be divided between you to purchase wine. 

First Off. Oh ! now thou art our beloved 
friend. — Good wine is the first object of our 
affection. — Let us go together to the vintners. 

[They all go out. 
SCENE. — The Garden of the Palace. 
The Nymph Misracesi appears in the air. 

Misr. My first task was duly performed when 
I went to bathe in the Nymphs' pool ; and I now 
must see with my own eyes how the virtuous 
king is afflicted. — Sacontala is dear to this heart, 
because she is the daughter of my beloved Menaca, 
from whom I received both commissions. — [She 
looks round'] — Ah ! on a day full of delights the 
monarch's family seem oppressed with some new 
sorrow. — By exerting my supernatural power I 
could know what has passed ; but respect must 
be shown to the desire of Menaca. I will retire, 
therefore, among those plants, and observe what 
is done without being visble. — [She descends y and 
takes her station. 

Enter two Damsels , attendants on the God of Love. 
. First Dams, [Looking at an Amra flower] The 



ii4 SACONTAMA; 



blossoms of yon Amra, waving on the green 
stalk, are fresh and light as the breath of this 
vernal month. I must present the goddess Retf 
with a basket of them. 

Second Dams. Why, my Parabhritica, dost 
thou mean to present it alone? 

First Dams. O my friend Madhucarica, when 
a female Cocila, which my name implies, sees a 
blooming Amra, she becomes entranced, and 
loses her recollection. 

Second Dams. [With transport^ What! is 
the season of sweets actually returned ? 

First Dams. Yes ; the season in which we 
must sing of nothing but wine, and love. 

Second Dams. Support me, then, while I climb 
up this tree, and strip it of its fragrant gems, 
which we will carry as an offering to Cama. 

First Dams. If I assist, I must have a moiety 
of the reward which the god will bestow. 

Second Dams. To be sure, and without any 
previous bargain. We are only one soul, 
you know, though Brahma has given it two 
bodies. — [She cliinbs up, and gathers the Jlozuers.'] 
Ah! the buds are hardly opened. — Here is one 
a little expanded, which diffuses a charming 
odour. — [ Taking a Jiandful of buds.~\ — This flower 
is sacred to the god who bears a fish on his 
banner. — O sweet blossom, which I now conse- 
crate, thou well deservest to point the sixth 
arrow of Camadeva, who now takes his bow to 
pierce myriads of youthful hearts. 

[She throws down a blossom. 



OR, THE FATAL RING. 115 

The old Chamberlain enters. 

Cham. [Angrily.] Desist from breaking off 
those half opened buds; there will be no jubilee 
this year; our king has forbidden it. 

Both Dams. Oh ! pardon us. We really knew 
not the prohibition. 

Cham. You knew it not ! — Even the trees 
which the spring was decking, and the birds who 
perch on them, sympathize with our monarch. 
Thence it is, that yon buds, which have long 
appeared, shed not yet their prolifick dust; and 
the flower of the Curuvaca, though perfectly 
formed, remains veiled in a closed chalice ; while 
the voice of the Cocila, though the cold dews fall 
no more, is fixed within his throat ; and even 
Smara, the god of desire, replaces the shaft half 
drawn from his quiver. 

Misr. [Aside.] The king, no doubt, is con- 
stant and tender-hearted. 

First Dams. A few days ago, Mitravasu, the 
governor of our province, dispatched us to kiss 
the feet of the king, and we come to decorate 
his groves and gardens with various emblems; 
thence it is, that we heard nothing of his inter- 
dict. 

Cham. Beware then of reiterating your offence. 

Second Dams. To obey our lord will certainly 
be our delight ; but if we are permitted to hear 
the story, tell us, we pray, what has induced our 
sovereign to forbid the usual festivity. 

Misr. [Aside.] Kings are generally fond of 



u6 SACONTALA; 



gay entertainments ; and there must be some 
weighty reason for the prohibition. 

Cham. [Aside.] The affair is publick ; why 
should I not satisfy them? — [Aloud.] — Has not 
the calamitous desertion of Sacontala reached 
your ears? 

First Dams. We heard her tale from the 
governor, as far as the sight of the fatal ring. 

Cham. Then I have little to add. — When the 
king's memory was restored, by the sight of his 
gem, he instantly exclaimed : " Yes, the incom- 
" parable Sacontala is my lawful wife ; and when 

" I rejected her, I had lost my reason." ■ He 

showed strong marks of extreme affliction and 
penitence ; and from that moment he has ab- 
horred the pleasures of life. No longer does he 
exert his respectable talents from day to day for 
the good of his people ; he prolongs his nights 
without closing his eyes, perpetually rolling on 
the edge of his couch ; and when he rises, he 
pronounces not one sentence aptly ; mistaking 
the names of the women in his apartments, and 
through distraction, calling each of them Sacon- 
tala ; then he sits abashed, with his head long 
bent on his knees. 

• Misr. [Aside] This is pleasing to me, very 
pleasing. 

Cham. By reason of the deep sorrow which 
now prevails in his heart, the vernal jubilee has 
been interdicted. 

Both Dams. The prohibition is highly proper. 



OR, THE FATAL RING. 117 

Behind the scenes. Make way ! The king is 
passing. 

Cham. [Listening.] Here comes the monarch ; 
depart therefore, damsels, to your own province, 

[The two Damsels go out. 
Dushmanta enters in penitential weeds, preceded 
by a Warder, and attended by Madhavya. 

Cham. [Looking at the king.] Ah ! how majes- 
tick are noble forms in every habiliment ! — Our 
prince, even in the garb of affliction, is a venera- 
ble object. — Though he has abandoned pleasure, 
ornaments, and business ; though he is become 
so thin, that his golden bracelet falls loosened 
even down to his wrist ; though his lips are 
parched with the heat of his sighs, and his eyes 
are fixed open by long sorrow and want of sleep, 
yet am I dazzled by the blaze of virtue which 
beams in his countenance like a diamond exqui- 
sitely polished. 

Misr. [Aside, gazing on Dushmanta.] With 
good reason is my beloved Sacontala, though 
disgraced and rejected, heavily oppressed with 
grief through the absence of this youth. 

Dushm. [Advancing slowly in deep meditation^]. 
When my darling with an, antelope's eyes would 
have reminded me of our love, I was assuredly 
slumbering ; but excess of misery has awakened 
me. 

Misr. [Aside.] The charming girl will at 
last be happy. 

Mddh. [Aside.] This monarch of ours is caught 



n8 S A CO ATA LA; 



again in the gale of affection ; and I hardly know 
a remedy for his illness. 

Cham. {Approaching Dushmanta.] May the 
king be victorious ! — Let him survey yon fine 
woodland, these cool walks, and this blooming 
garden ; where he may repose with pleasure on 
banks of delight. 

Duslim. {Not attending to him.] Warder, in- 
form the chief minister in my name, that having 
resolved on a long absence from the city, I do 
not mean to sit for some time in the tribunal ; 
but let him write and dispatch to me all the 
cases that may arise among my subjects. 

Ward. As the king commands. {He goes out. 

Dnshm. {To the Chamberlain.] And thou, 
Parvatayana, neglect not thy stated business. 

Cham. By no means. {He goes out. 

Mddh. You have not left a fly in the garden. — 
Amuse yourself now in this retreat, which seems 
pleased with the departure of the dewy season. 

Duslim. O Madhavya, when persons accused of 
great offences prove wholly innocent, see howtheir 
accusers are punished ! — A phrensy obstructed 
my remembrance of any former love for the 
daughter of the sage ; and now the heart-born 
god, who delights in giving pain, has fixed in his 
bow-string a new shaft pointed with the blos- 
som of an Amra. — The fatal ring having re- 
stored my memory, see me deplore with tears of 
repentance the loss of my best beloved, whom 
I rejected without cause; see me overwhelmed 



OR, THE FATAL RING. 119 

with sorrow, even while the return of spring fills 
the hearts of all others with pleasure. 

Mddh. Be still, my friend, whilst I break Love's 
arrows with my staff. 

[He strikes off some flowers from an Amra tree. 

Dushm. [Meditating] Yes, I acknowledge 
the supreme power of Brahma — [To Madhavya.] 
Where now, my friend, shall I sit and recreate 
my sight with the slender shrubs which bear a 
faint resemblance to the shape of Sacontala ? 

Mddh. You will soon see the damsel skilled in 
painting, whom you informed that you would 
spend the forenoon in yon bower of Madhavl 
creepers ; and she will bring the queen's picture 
which you commanded her to draw. 

Duskm. My soul will be delighted even by 
her picture. — Show the way to the bower. 

Mddh. This way my friend. — [They both ad- 
vance, Misracesl following them] — The arbour of 
twining Madhavis, embellished with fragments of 
stone like bright gems, appears by its pleasant- 
ness, though without a voice, to bid thee welcome. 
— Let us enter it, and be seated. 

[ They both sit down in the bower. 

Misr. [Aside] From behind these branchy 
shrubs I shall behold the picture of my Sacontala. 
— I will afterwards hasten to report the sincere 
affection of her husband. [She conceals herself. 

Dushm. [Sighing] O my approved friend, 
the whole adventure of the hermitage is now 
fresh in my memory. — I informed you how 
deeply I was affected by the first sight of the 



i2o SACOXTALA; 



damsel ; but when she was rejected by me you 
were not present. — Her name was often repeated 
by me (how, indeed, should it not ?) in our con- 
versation. — What ! hast thou forgotten, as I had, 
the whole of the story. 

Misr. [Aside.] The sovereigns of the world 
must not, I find, be left an instant without the 
objects of their love. 

Mddh. Oh, no : I have not forgotten it ; but at 
the end of our discourse you assured me that 
your love tale was invented solely for your diver- 
sion ; and this, in the simplicity of my heart, I 
believed. — Some great event seems in all this 
affair to be predestined in heaven. 

Misr. [Aside] Nothing is more true. 

DusJim. {Having meditated^ O ! my friend 
suggest some relief for my torment. 

Mddh. What new pain torments you ? Vir- 
tuous men should never be thus afflicted : the 
most violent wind shakes not mountains. 

Dushni. When I reflect on the situation of 
your friend Sacontala, who must now be greatly 
affected by my desertion of her, I am without 
comfort. — She made an attempt to follow the 
Brahmens and the matron : Stay, said the sage's 
pupil, who was revered as the sage himself: 
Stay, said he, with a loud voice. Then once 
more she fixed on me, who had betrayed her, 
that celestial face, then bedewed with gushing 
tears ; and the bare idea of her pain burns me 
like an envenomed javelin. 



OR, THE FATAL RING. 121 

Misr. [Aside.] How he afflicts himself! I 
really sympathize with him. 

Mddh. — Surely some inhabitant of the heavens 
must have wafted her to his mansion. 

Dushm. No; what male divinity would have 
taken the pains to carry off a wife so firmly 
attached to her lord? Menaca, the nymph of 
Swerga, gave her birth; and some of her attend- 
ant nymphs have, I imagine, concealed her at 
the desire of her mother. 

Misr. [Aside.] To reject Sacontala was, no 
doubt, the effect of a delirium, not the act of a 
waking man. 

Mddh. If it be thus, you will soon meet her 
again. 

Dushm. Alas ! why do you think so ? 

Mddh. Because no father and mother can long 
endure to see their daughter deprived of her hus- 
band. 

Dushm. Was it sleep that impaired my me- 
mory? Was it delusion? Was it an error of 
my judgment? Or was it the destined reward 
of my bad actions? Whatever it was, I am 
sensible that, until Sacontala return to these 
arms, I shall be plunged in the abyss of affliction. 

Mddh. Do not despair: the fatal ring is itself 
an example that the lost may be found. — Events 
which were foredoomed by Heaven must not be 
lamented. 

Dushm. [Looking at his ring:] The fate of 
this ring, now fallen from a station which it will 



122 SAC0N1ALA; 



not easily regain, I may at least deplore. — O 
gem, thou art removed from the soft finger, beau- 
tiful with ruddy tips, on which a place had been 
assigned thee, and, minute as thou art, thy bad 
qualities appear from the similarity of thy 
punishment to mine. 

Misr. [Aside.] Had it found a way to any 
other hand its lot would have been truly deplor- 
able. — O Menaca, how wouldst thou be delighted 
with the conversation which gratifies my ears! 

Mddh. Let rne know, I pray, by what means 
the ring obtained a place on the finger of Sacon- 
tala. 

Dushm. You shall know, my friend. — When I 
was coming from the holy forest to my capital, 
my beloved, with tears in her eyes, thus addressed 
me : " How long will the son of my lord keep 
" me in his remembrance?" 
Mddh. Well; what then? 

Dushm. Then, fixing this ring on her lovely 
finger, I thus answered : " Repeat each day 
" one of the three syllables engraved on this 
" gem ; and before thou hast spelled the word 
" Dushmanta, one of my noblest officers shall 
" attend thee, and conduct my darling to her 
" palace." — Yet I forgot, I deserted her in my 
phrensy. 

Misr. [Aside.] A charming interval of three 
days was fixed between their separation and 
their meeting, which the will of Brahma rendered 
unhappy. 



OR, THE FATAL RING. 123 

Mddh. But how came the ring to enter, like a 
hook, into the mouth of a carp ? 

Dushm. When my beloved was lifting water 
to her head in the pool of Sachitirt'ha, the ring 
must have dropped unseen. 

Mddh. It is very probable. 

Misr. [Aside] Oh ! it was thence that the 
king, who fears nothing but injustice, doubted 
the reality of his marriage ; but how, I wonder, 
could his memory be connected with a ring ? 

Dushm. I am really angry with this gem. 

Mddh. [Laughing] So am I with this staff. 

Dushm. Why so, Madhavya ? 

Mddh. Because it presumes to be so straight 
when I am so crooked. — Impertinent stick ! 

Dushm. [Not attending to him] How, O ring, 
couldst thou leave that hand adorned with soft 
long fingers, and fall into a pool decked only 
with water lilies ? — The answer is obvious ; thou 
art irrational. — But how could I, who was born 
with a reasonable soul, desert my only beloved ? 

Misr. [Aside] He anticipates my remark. 

Mddh. [Aside] So; I must wait here dur- 
ing his meditations, and perish with hunger. 

Duslim. O my darling, whom I treated with 
disrespect, and forsook without reason, when will 
this traitor, whose heart is deeply stung with 
repentant sorrow, be once more blessed with a 
sight of thee ? 

A Damsel enters with a picture. 

Dams. Great king, the picture is finished. 

I 2 



124 SACONTALA; 



[Holding it before him. 

Dushm. [Gazing on it.] Yes ; that is her face; 
those are her beautiful eyes ; those her lips em- 
bellished with smiles, and surpassing the red 
lustre of the Carcandhu fruit ; her mouth seems, 
though painted, to speak, and her conntenance 
darts beams of affection blended with a variety 
of melting tints. 

Mddli. Truly, my friend, it is a picture sweet 
as love itself: my eye glides up and down to 
feast on every particle of it ; and it gives me as 
much delight as if I were actually conversing 
with the living Sacontala. 

Misr. [Aside.] An exquisite pieceof painting! 
— My beloved friend seems to stand before my eyes. 

Dushm. Yet the picture is infinitely below the 
original ; and my warm fancy, by supplying its 
imperfections, represents, in some degree, the 
loveliness of my darling. 

Misr. [Aside.] His ideas are suitable to his 
excessive love and severe penitence. 

Dushm. \Sighing!\ Alas! I rejected her when 
she lately approached me, and now I do homage 
to her picture ; like a traveller who negligently 
passes by a clear and full rivulet, and soon 
ardently thirsts for a false appearance of water 
on the sandy desert. 

Mddh. There are so many female figures on 
this canvas, that jl cannot well distinguish the 
lady Sacontaki. 

Misr. [Aside.] The old man is ignorant of 



OR, THE FATAL RING. 125 

her transcendent beauty ; her eyes, which fasci- 
nated the soul of his prince, never sparkled, I sup- 
pose, on Madhavya. 

DusJim. Which of the figures do you conceive 
intended for the queen ? 

Mddh. [Examining the picture?^ It is she, I 
imagine, who looks a little fatigued ; with the 
string of her vest rather loose ; the slender stalks 
of her arms falling languidly ; a few bright drops 
on her face, and some flowers dropping from 
her untied locks. That must be the queen ; and 
the rest, I suppose, are her damsels. 

Duslirn. You judge well ; but my affection 
requires something more in the piece. Besides, 
through some defect in the colouring, a tear 
seems trickling down her cheek, which ill suits 
the state in which I desired to see her painted. 
— [To the Damsel.] — The picture, O Chaturica, 
is unfinished. — Go back to the painting room 
and bring the implements of thy art. 

Dams. Kind Madhavya, hold the picture 
while I obey the king. 

Dushm. No ; I will hold it. 
[He takes the picture ; and tlie Damsel goes out. 

Mddh. What else is to be' painted ? 

Misr. [Aside.] He cjesires, I presume, to add 
all those circumstances which became the situa- 
tion of his beloved in the hermitage. 

Dushm. In this landscape, my friend, I wish 
to see represented the river Malinl, with some 
amorous Flamingos on its green margin ; farther 



126 SACONTALA; 



back must appear some hills near the mountain 
Himalaya, surrounded with herds of Chamaras ; 
and in the foreground, a dark spreading tree, 
with some mantles of woven bark suspended on 
its branches to be dried by the sunbeams; while 
a pair of black antelopes couch in its shade, and 
the female gently rubs her beautiful forehead on 
the horn of the male. 

Mddh. Add what you please ; but, in my 
judgment, the vacant places should be filled 
with old hermits, bent, like me, towards the 
ground. 

Dushm. \_Not attending to him.] Oh ! I had 
forgotten that my beloved herself must have 
some new ornaments. 

Mddh. What, I pray ? 

Misr. [Aside.] Such, no doubt, as become a 
damsel bred in a forest. 

Dushm. The artist had omitted a Sirisha flower 
with its peduncle fixed behind her soft ear, and 
its filaments waving over part of her cheek ; and 
between her breasts must be placed a knot of 
delicate fibres from the stalks of water lilies, like 
the rays of an autumnal moon. 

Mddh. Why does the queen cover part of 
her face, as if she was afraid of something, with 
the tips of her fingers, that glow like the flowers 
of the Cuvalaya ? — Oh ! I now perceive an im- 
pudent bee, that thief of odours, who seems eager 
to sip honey from the lotos of her mouth. 

Dushm* A bee ! drive off the importunate 
insect. 



OR, THE FATAL RING. 127 

Mddh. The king has supreme power over all 
offenders. 

Dus/iM. male bee, who approachest the 
lovely inhabitants of a flowery grove, why dost 
thou expose thyself to the pain of being re- 
jected ? — See where thy female sits on a blossom, 
and, though thirsty, waits for thy return : with- 
out thee she will not taste its nectar. 

Misr. [Aside.] A wild, but apt, address ! 

Mddh. The perfidy of male bees is proverbial. 

Dushm. [Angrily^] Shouldst thou touch, O 
bee, the lip of my darling, ruddy as a fresh leaf 
on which no wind has yet breathed, a lip from 
which I drank sweetness in the banquet of love, 
thou shalt, by my order, be imprisoned in the 
center of a lotos. — Dost thou still disobey me ? 

Mddh. How can he fail to obey, since you de- 
nounce so severe a punishment ? — [Aside, laugh- 
ing^ — He is stark mad with love and affliction ; 
whilst I, by keeping him company, shall be as 
mad as he without either. 

Dushm. After my positive injunction, art thou 
still unmoved ? 

Misr. [Aside.] How does excess of passion 
alter even the wife ! 

Mddh. Why, my friend, it is only a painted 
bee. 

Misr. [Aside.] Oh ! I perceive his mistake : 
it shows the perfection of the art. But why does 
he continue musing ? 

Dushm. What ill-natured remark was that ? — 



128 SACONTALA; 



Whilst I am enjoying the rapture of beholding 
her to whom my soul is attached, thou, cruel 
remembrancer, tellest me that it is only a picture. 

[ / 1 r eepin/r, 

Misr. [Aside.] Such are the woes of a separated 
lover ! He is on all sides entangled in sorrow. 

Dushm. Why do I thus indulge unremitted 
grief ? That intercourse with my darling which 
dreams would give, is prevented by my continued 
inability to repose ; and my tears will not suffer 
me to view her distinctly even in this picture. 

Misr. [Aside.] His misery acquits him entirely 
of having deserted her in his perfect senses. 
The Damsel re-enters. 

Dams. As I was advancing, O king, with my 
box of pencils and colours — 

Dushm. [Hastily?^ What happened ? 

Dams. It was forcibly seized by the queen 
Vasumati, whom her maid Pingalica had apprised 
of my errand ; and she said : " I will myself 
" deliver the casket to the son of my lord." 

Mddh. How came you to be released ? 

Dams. While the queen's maid was disengaging 
the skirt of her mantle, which had been caught 
by the branch of a thorny shrub, I stole away. 

Dushm. Friend Madhavya, my great attention 
to Vasumati has made her arrogant; and she will 
soon be here: be it your care to conceal the picture. 

Mddh. [Aside.] I wish you would conceal it 
yourself. — [He takes tlie picture, and rises.] — 
[Aloud.] — If, indeed, you will disentangle me 



OR, THE FATAL RING. 129 

from the net of your secret apartments, to which 
I am confined, and suffer me to dwell on the wall 
Meghach' handa which encircles them, I will hide 
the picture in a place where none shall see it but 
pigeons. [He goes out. 

Misr. [Aside.] How honourably he keeps his 
former engagements, though his heart be now 
fixed on another object ! 

A Warder enters with a leaf. 
Ward. May the king prosper ! 
Dushm. Warder, hast thou lately seen the 
queen Vasumati ? 

Ward. I met her, O king ; but when she per- 
ceived the leaf in my hand, she retired. 

Dushm. The queen distinguishes time : she 
would not impede my publick bnsiness. 

Ward. The chief minister sends this message: 
" I have carefully stated a case whieh has arisen 
"in the city, and accurately committed it to 
" writing : let the king deign to consider it." 

Dushm. Give me the leaf. — [Receiving it } and 
reading.] — " Be it presented at the foot of the 
" king, that a merchant named Dhanavriddhi, 
"who had extensive commerce at sea, was lost 
"in a late shipwreck: he -had no child born; 
" and has left a fortune of many millions, which 
"belong, if the king commands, to> the royal 
" treasury." — [ With sorrow^] — Oh ! how great a 
misfortune it is to die childless ! Yet with his 
affluence he must have had many wives : — let 
an inquiry be made whether any one of them 
is pregnant 



130 SACONTALA; 



Ward. I have heard that his wife, the daughter 
of an excellent man, named Sacetaca, has already 
performed the ceremonies usual on pregnancy. 

DusJim. The child, though unborn, has a title 
to his father's property. — Go : bid the minister 
make my judgment publick. 

Ward. I obey. {Going. 

DusJim. Stay a while. — 

Ward. [Returning] I am here. 

DusJim. Whether he had or had not left off- 
spring, the estate should not have been forfeited. 
— Let it be proclaimed, that whatever kinsman 
any one of my subjects may lose, Dushmanta 
(excepting always the case of forfeiture for 
crimes) will supply, in tender affection, the place 
of that kinsman. 

Ward. The proclamation shall be made. — 

[He goes out. 
[Dushmanta continues meditating] 
Re-enter Warder. 
O king ! the royal decree, which proves that 
your virtues are awake after a long slumber, was 
heard with bursts of applause. 

Duslim. [Sighing deeply] When an illustrious 
man dies, alas, without an heir, his estate goes to 
a stranger ; and such will be the fate of all the 
wealth accumulated by the sons of Puru. 

Ward. Heaven avert the calamity ! 

[Goes out. 

Duslim. Wo is me ! I am stripped of all the 
felicity which I once enjoyed. 



OR, THE FATAL RING. 131 

Misr. [Aside.] How his heart dwells on the 
idea of his beloved ! 

Dnshm. My lawful wife, whom I basely de- 
serted, remains fixed in my soul : she would have 
been the glory of my family, and might have 
produced a son brilliant as the richest fruit of 
the teeming earth. 

Misr. [Aside.] She is not forsaken by all; 
and soon, I trust, will be thine. 

Dams. [Aside.] What a change has the mini- 
ster made in the king by sending him that mis- 
chievous leaf ! Behold, he is deluged with tears. 

Dushm. Ah me ! the departed souls of my 
ancestors, who claim a share in the funeral cake, 
which I have no son to offer, are apprehensive of 
losing their due honour, when Dushmanta shall 
be no more on earth: — who then, alas, will per- 
form in our family those obsequies which the 
Veda prescribes ? — My forefathers must drink, 
instead of a pure libation, this flood of tears, the 
only offering which a man who dies childless can 
make them. [ Weeping. 

Misr. [Aside.] Such a veil obscures the king's 
eyes, that he thinks it total darkness, though a 
lamp be now shining brightly. 

Dams. Afflict not yourself immoderately : our 
lord is young ; and when sons illustrious as himself 
shall be born of other queens, his ancestors will be re- 
deemed from their offences committed here below. 

Dushm. [With agony.] The race of Puru, 
which has hitherto been fruitful and unblemished, 



132 SACONTALA: 



ends in me; as the river Sereswati disappears in 
a region unworthy of her divine stream. 

[He faints. 

Dams. Let the king resume confidence. — 

[She supports him. 

Misr. [Aside.] Shall I restore him ? No ; 
he will speedily be roused — I heard the nymph 
Devajanani consoling Sacontala in these words: 
" As the gods delight in their portion of sacrifices, 
" thus wilt thou soon be delighted by the love of 
" thy husband." I go, therefore, to raise her 
spirits, and please my friend Menaca with an 
account of his virtues and his affection. 

[She rises aloft and disappears. 

Behind the scenes. A Brahmen must not be 
slain: save the life of a Brahmen. 

Dushm, [Reviving and listening?^ Hah ! was 
not that the plaintive voice of Madhavya ? 

Dams. He has probably been caught with the 
picture in his hand by Pingalica and theother maids. 

Dushm. Go, Chaturica, and reprove the queen 
in my name for not restraining her servants. 

Dams. As the king commands. [She goes out. 

Again behind the scenes. I am a Brahmen, and 
must not be put to death. 

Dushm. It is manifestly some Brahmen in 
great danger. — Hola ! who is there ? 
77ie old Chamberlain enters. 

Cham. What is the king's pleasure ? 

Dushm. Inquire why the faint-hearted Mdd- 
havya cries out so piteously. 



OR, THE FATAL RING. 133 

Cham. I will know in an instant. 

[He goes out and returns trembling. 

Dushm. Is there any alarm, Parvatayana ? 

Cham. Alarm enough ! 

Dushm. What causes thy tremour ? — Thus do 
men tremble through age : fear shakes the old 
man's body, as the breeze agitates the leaves of 
the Pippala. 

Cham. Oh ! deliver thy friend. 

Dushm. Deliver him ! from what ? 

Cham. From distress and danger . 

Dushm. Speak more plainly. 

Cham. The wall which looks to all quarters of 
the heavens, and is named, from the clouds which 
cover it, Meghach' handa — 

Dushm. What of that ? 

Cham. From the summit of that wall, the 
pinnacle of which is hardly attainable even by 
the blue-necked pigeons, an evil being, invisible 
to human eyes, has violently carried away the 
friend of your childhood. 

Dushm. [Starting up hastily ?[ What ! are 
even my secret apartments infested by super- 
natural agents ? — Royalty is ever subjected to 
molestation. — A king knows not even the mis- 
chiefs which his own negligence daily and hourly 
occasions : — how then should he know what path 
his people are treading ; and how should he cor- 
rect their manners when his own are uncorrected ? 

Behind the seenes. Oh, help ! oh, release me, 

Dushm. [Listening and advancing^] Fear not, 
my friend, fear nothing. — 



134 SACONTALA ; 

Behind the scenes. Not fear, when a monster 
has caught me by the nape of my neck, and 
means to snap my backbone as he would snap a 
sugar-cane ! 

Dushm. [Darting his eyes round^\ Hola ! my 

bow 

A Warder enters with the king's bow and quiver. 

Ward. Here are our great hero's arms. 

[Dushmanta takes his bow and an arrow. 

Behind the scenes. Here I stand ; and, thirsting 
for thy fresh blood, will slay thee struggling as 
a tyger slays a calf. — Where now is thy protector, 
Dushmanta, who grasps his bow to defend the 
oppressed ? 

Dushm. [ Wrathfully^] The demon names me 
with defiance. — Stay, thou basest of monsters. — 
Here am I, and thou shalt not long exist. — 
[Raising his bow.] — Show the way, Parvatayana, 
to the stairs of the terrace. 

Cham. This way, great king ! — 

[All go out hastily. 
The SCENE changes to a broad TERRACE. 
Enter Dushmanta. 

Dushm. [Looking round.] Ah ! the place is 
deserted. 

Behind the scenes. Save me, oh ! save me. — I 
see thee, my friend, but thou canst not discern 
me, who, like a mouse in the claws of a cat, have 
no hope of life. 

DusJnn. But this arrow shall distinguish thee 
from thy foe, in spight of the magick which 



OR, THE FATAL RING. 135 

renders thee invisible. — Madhavya, stand firm ; 
and thou, blood-thirsty fiend, think not of destroy- 
ing him whom I love and will protect. — See, I 
thus fix a shaft which shall pierce thee, who de- 
servest death, and shall save a Brahmen who 
deserves long life ; as the celestial bird sips the 
milk, and leaves the water which has been 
mingled with it. [He draws the bow string. 

Enter Matali and Madhavya. 

Mat. The god Indra has destined evil demons 
to fall by thy shafts : against them let thy bow 
be drawn, and cast on thy friends eyes bright 
with affection. 

Dushm. [Astonished, giving back his arms^] 
Oh ! Matali, welcome ; I greet the driver of 
Indra's car. 

Mddh. What ! this cutthroat was putting me to 
death, and thou greetest him with a kind wel- 
come ! 

Mat. [Smiling.] O king, live long and con- 
quer ! Hear on what errand I am dispatched 
by the ruler of the firmament. 

Dushm. I am humbly attentive. 

Mat. There is a race of Danavas, the children 
of Calanemi, whom it is found hard to subdue — 

Dushm. This I have heard already from 
Nared. 

Mat. The god with an hundred sacrifices, un- 
able to quell that gigantick race, commissions 
thee, his approved friend, to assail them in the 
front of battle ; as the sun with seven steeds 



SACONTALA; 



despairs of overcoming the dark legions of night, 
and gives way to the moon, who easily scatters 
them. Mount, therefore, with me, the car of 
Indra, and, grasping thy bow, advance to assured 
victory. 

Dushtn. Such a mark of distinction from the 
prince of good genii honours me highly ; but say 
why you treated so roughly my poor friend Mad- 
havya. 

Mat. Perceiving that, for some reason or an- 
other, you were grievously afflicted, I was de- 
sirous to rouse your spirits by provoking you to 
wrath. — The fire blazes when wood is thrown on 
it ; the serpent, when provoked, darts his head 
against the assailant ; and a man capable of 
acquiring glory, exerts himself when his courage 
is excited. 

Dushm. [To Madhavya.] My friend, the com- 
mand of Divespetir must instantly be obeyed : 
go, therefore, and carry the intelligence to my 
chief minister ; saying to him in my name : 
" Let thy wisdom secure my people from danger 
" while this braced bow has a different employ- 
ment." 

Mddli. I obey ; but wish it could have been 
employed without assistance from my terror. 

[He goes out. 
Mat. Ascend, great king. 

[Dushmanta ascends y and Matali drives 
off the ear. 



OR, THE FATAL RING. 137 



ACT VII. 

% 

Dushmanta with Matali in the car of Indra, 
supposed to be above the clouds. 

Dushmanta. 

I am sensible, O Matali, that, for having executed 
the commission which Indra gave me, I deserved 
not such a profusion of honours. 

'Mat. Neither of you is satisfied. You who 
have conferred so great a benefit on the god of 
thunder, consider it as a trifling act of devotion; 
whilst he reckons not all his kindness equal to 
the benefit conferred. 

Dushm. There is no comparison between the 
service and the reward. — He surpassed my 
warmest expectation, when, before he dismissed 
me, he made me sit on half of his throne, thus 
exalting me before all the inhabitants of the 
Empyreum; and smiling to see his son Jayanta, 
who stood near him, ambitious of the same 
honour, perfumed my bosqm with essence of 
heavenly sandal wood, throwing over my neck a 
garland of flowers blown in paradise. 

Mat. O king, you deserve all imaginable re- 
wards from the sovereign of good genii, whose 
empyreal seats have twice been disentangled 
from the thorns of Danu's race; formerly by the 

K 



13S SAC0N1ALA; 



claws of the man-lion, and lately by thy unerring 
shafts. 

Dushtn. My victory proceeded wholly from 
the auspices of the god ; as on earth, when ser- 
vants prosper in great enterprises, they owe 
their success to the magnificence of their lords. 
— Could Arun dispel the shades of night if the 
deity with a thousand beams had not placed him 
before the car of day? 

Mat. That case, indeed, is parallel. — {Driving 
slawly?\ — See, O king, the full exaltation of thy 
glory, which now rides on the back of heaven! 
The delighted genii have been collecting, among 
the trees of life, those crimson and azure dyes, 
with which the celestial damsels tinge their 
beautiful feet ; and they now are writing thy 
actions in verses worthy of divine melody. 

Duslim. [Modestfy.] In my transport, O Ma- 
tali, after the rout of the giants, this wonderful 
place had escaped my notice. — In what path of 
the winds are we now journeying. 

Mat. This is the way which leads along the 
triple river, heaven's brightest ornament, and 
causes yon luminaries to roll in a circle with 
diffused beams ; it is the course of a gentle breeze 
which supports the floating forms of the gods; 
and this path was the second step of Vishnu, 
when he confounded the proud Vail. 

DusJim. My internal soul, which acts by ex- 
tenor organs, is filled by the sight with a charm- 
ing complacency. — [Looking at the 10/iais.] — We 



OR, THE FATAL RING. 13 

are now passing, I guess, through the region of 
clouds. 

Mat. Whence do you form that conjecture? 

Dushm. The car itself instructs me that we 
are moving over clouds pregnant with showers; 
for the circumference of its wheels disperses 
pellucid water; the horses of Indra sparkle with 
lightning; and I now see the warbling Chatacas 
descend from their nests on the summits of 
mountains. 

Mat. It is even so ; and in another moment 
you will be in the country which you govern. 

Dushm. \L00king dozcm.] Through the rapid, 
yet imperceptible, descent of the heavenly steeds, 
I now perceive the allotted station of men. — 
Astonishing prospect ! It is yet so distant from 
us, that the low lands appear confounded with 
the high mountain tops ; the trees erect their 
branchy shoulders, but seem leafless ; the rivers 
look like bright lines, but their waters vanish ; 
and, at this instant, the globe of earth seems 
thrown upwards by some stupendous power. 

Mat. \L00king with reverence on the earthy 
How delightful is the abode of mankind ! — O 
king, you saw distinctly! 

Dnslim. Say, Matali, what mountain is that 
which, like an evening cloud, pours exhilarating 
streams, and forms a golden zone between the 
western and eastern seas ? 

Mat. That, O king, is the mountain of Gand- 
harvas, named Hemacuta ; the universe contains 

K 2 



i4o SACONTALAj 



not a more excellent place for the successful 
devotion of the pious. There Casyapa, father of 
the immortals, ruler of men, son of Marichi, who 
sprang from the self-existent, resides with his 
consort Aditi, blessed in holy retirement. 

Dushm. [Devoutly."] This occasion of attaining 
good fortune must not be neglected : may I 
approach the divine pair, and do them complete 
homage ? 

Mat. By all means. — It is an excellent idea! — 
We are now descended on earth. 

Dushm. [ With wonderI\ These chariot wheels 
yield no sound ; no dust arises from them ; and 
the descent of the car gave me no shock. 

Mat. Such is the difference, O king, between 
thy car and that of Indra ! 

Dushm. Where is the holy retreat of Marichi ? 
Mat. [Pointing.] A little beyond that grove, 
where you see a pious Yogi, motionless as a 
pollard, holding his thick bushy hair, and fixing 
his eyes on the solar orb. — Mark ; his body is 
half covered with a white ant's edifice made 01 
raised clay ; the skin of a snake supplies the 
place of his sacerdotal thread, and part of it girds 
his loins ; a number of knotty plants encircle and 
wound his neck ; and surrounding birds' nests 
almost conceal his shoulders. 

Dushm, I bow to a man of his austere devotion. 

Mat. \ C liecking the reins.] Thus far, and enough. 

— We now enter the sanctuary of him who rules 

the world, and the groves which are watered by 

streams from celestial sources. 



OR, THE FATAL RING. 141 

Dushm. This asylum is more delightful than 
paradise itself : I could fancy myself bathing in 
a pool of nectar. 

Mat. {Stopping the car.] Let the king descend. 

Dushm. {Joyfully descending?^ How canst thou 
leave the car ? 

Mat. On such an occasion it will remain fixed : 
we may both leave it. — This way, victorious hero, 
this way. — Behold the retreat of the truly pious. 

Dushm. I see with equal amazement both the 
pious and their awful retreat. — It becomes, in- 
deed, pure spirits to feed on balmy air in a forest 
blooming with trees of life ; to bathe in rills dyed 
yellow with the golden dust of the lotos, and to 
fortify their virtue in the mysterious bath ; to 
meditate in caves, the pebbles of which are un- 
blemished gems ; and to restrain their passions, 
even though nymphs of exquisite beauty frolick 
around them : in this grove alone is attained the 
summit of true piety, to which other hermits in 
vain aspire. 

Mat. In exalted minds the desire of perfect ex- 
cellence continually increases. — {Turning aside.] 
— Tell me, Vriddhasacalya, in what business is 
the divine son of Marichi now engaged ? — What 
sayest thou ? — Is he conversing with the daughter 
of Dacsha, who practises all the virtues of a 
dutiful wife, and is consulting him on moral 
questions ? — Then we must await his leisure. — 
[To Dushmanta.] Rest, O king, under the shade 
of this Asoca tree, whilst I announce thy arrival 
to the father of Indra. 



142 S ACQ XT ALA, 



Dushm. As you judge right. — [Matali goes 
out. — Dushmanta feels his rig/it arm throb.] — 
Why, O my arm, dost thou flatter me with a 
vain omen ? — My former happiness is lost, and 
misery only remains. 

Behind the scenes. Be not so restless ; in every 
situation thou showest thy bad temper. 

Dushm. [Listening.] Hah! this is no place, 
surely, for a malignant disposition. — Who can be 
thus rebuked ? — {Looking with surprise^ — I see 
a child, but with no childish countenance or 
strength, whom two female anchorites are endea- 
vouring to keep in order ; while he forcibly pulls 
towards him, in rough play, a lion's whelp with 
a torn mane, who seems just dragged from the 
half-sucked nipple of the lioness ! 
A little Boy and tzvo female Attendants are dis- 
covered, as described by the king. 

Boy. Open thy mouth, lion's whelp, that I may 
count thy teeth. 

First Atten. Intractable child! Why dost 
thou torment the wild animals of this forest, 
whom we cherish as if they were our own off- 
spring ? — Thou seemest even to sport in anger. 
— Aptly have the hermits named thee Scrvade- 
mana, since thou tamest all creatures. 

Dushm. Ah ! what means it that my heart 
inclines to this boy as if he were my own son ? — 
[Meditating.] — Alas! I have no son; and the 
reflection makes me once more soft-hearted. 

Second At/en. The lioness will tear thee to 
pieces if thou release not her whelp. 



OR, THE FATAL RING. 143 

Boy. [Smiling?^ Oh ! I am greatly afraid of 
her to be sure ! 

[He bites his lip, as in defianee of her. 

Duslim. [Aside, amazed^ The child exhibits 
the rudiments of heroick valour, and looks like 
fire which blazes from the addition of dry fuel. 

First Atten. My beloved child, set at liberty 
this young prince of wild beasts ; and I will give 
thee a prettier plaything. 

Boy. Give it first. — Where is it ? 

[StretcJiing out his hand. 

Dushm. [Aside, gazing on the child's palm?] 
What ! the very palm of his hand bears the 
marks of empire ; and whilst he thus eagerly ex- 
tends it shoves its lines of exquisite network, and 
glows like a lotos expanded at early dawn, when 
the ruddy splendour of its petals hides all other 
tints in obscurity. 

Second Atten. Mere words, my Suvrita, will 
not pacify him. — Go, I pray, to my cottage, 
where thou wilt find a plaything made for the 
hermit's child, Sancara : it is a peacock of earth- 
enware painted with rich colours. 

First Atten. I will bring it speedily. 

[She goes ont. 

Boy. In the meantime I will play with the 
young lion. 

Second Atten. [Looking at him with a smiled] 
Let him go, I entreat thee. 

DasJim. [Aside.] I feel the tenderest affection 
for this unmanageable child. — [Sighing.'] — How 
sweet must be the delight of virtuous fathers, 



144 SACONTALA; 



when they soil their bosoms with dust by lift- 
ing up their playful children, who charm them 
with inarticulate prattle, and show the white 
blossoms of their teeth, while they laugh inno- 
cently at every trifling occurrence. 

Secojid Atten. {Raising her finger ^\ What! 
dost thou show no attention to me ? — [Looking 
round.] — Are any of the hermits near ? — [Seeing 
Dushmanta.] — Oh ! let me request you, gentle 
stranger, to release the lion's whelp, who cannot 
disengage himself from the grasp of this robust 
child. 

Ditshm. I will endeavour. — [Approaching the 
Boy and smiling^ — Oh ! thou, who art the son 
of a pious anchorite, how canst thou dishonour 
thy father, whom thy virtues would make happy, 
by violating the rules of this consecrated forest ? 
It becomes a black serpent only, to infest the 
boughs of a fragrant sandal tree. 

[The Boy releases the lion. 

Second Atten. I thank you, courteous guest ; 
but he not the son of an anchorite. 

Dushm. His actions, indeed, which are con- 
formable to his robustness, indicate a different 
birth ; but my opinion arose from the sanctity 
of the place which he inhabits. — [Taking the Boy 
by the hand.] — [Aside.] — Oh ! since it gives me 
such delight merely to touch the hand of this 
child, who is the hopeful scion of a family un- 
connected with mine, what rapture must be felt 
by the fortunate man from whom he sprang ? 



OR, THE FATAL RING. 145 

Second Atten. [Gazing on them alternately ?[ 
Oh wonderful ! 

Dushm. What has raised your wonder ? 

Second Atten. The astonishing resemblance 
between the child and you, gentle stranger, to 
whom he bears no relation. — It surprised me 
also to see, that although he has childish humours, 
and had no former acquaintance with you, yet 
your words have restored him to his natural 
good temper. 

Dushm. [Raisng the Boy to his bosom. Holy 
matron, if he be not the son of a hermit, what 
then is the name of his family ? 

Second Atten. He is descended from Puru. 

Dushm. [Aside.] Hah ! thence, no doubt, 
springs his disposition, and my affection for him. 
[Sitting him down.] — [Aloud.] — It is, I know, 
an established usage among the princes of Puru's 
race, to dwell at first in rich palaces with stuccoed 
walls, where they protect aud cherish the world, 
but in the decline of life to seek humblermansions 
near the roots of venerable trees, where hermits 
with subdued passions practice austere dovotion. 
— I wonder, however, that this boy, who moves 
like a god, could have been born of a mere 
mortal. 

Second Atten. Affable stranger, your wonder 
will cease when you know that his mother is 
related to a celestial nymph, and brought him 
forth in the sacred forest of Casyapa. 

Dushm. [Aside.] I am transported. — This is 



146 SACONTALA; 



a fresh ground of hope. — [A/oud.] — What virtu- 
ous monarch took his excellent mother by the 
hand ? 

Second At ten. Oh! I must not give celebrity 
to the name of a king who deserted his lawful 
wife. 

Dushni. [Aside.] Ah ! she means me. — Let 
me now ask the name of the sweet child's mother. 
— [Meditating^] — But it is against good manners 
to inquire concerning the wife of another man. 
The First Attendant re- enters zuith a toy. 

First Attcn. Look, Servademana, look at the 
beauty of this bird, Sacontalavanyam. 

Boy. [Looking eagerly rounds] Sacontala! Oh, 
where is my beloved mother ? 

[Both Attendants langJi. 

First Attcn. He tenderly loves his mother, 
and w r as deceived by an equivocal phrase. 

Second Attcn. My child, she meant only the 
beautiful shape and colours of this peacock. 

DnsJim. [Aside.] Is my Sacontala then his 
mother? Or has that dear name been given to 
some otherwoman? — This conversation resembles 
the fallacious appearance of water in a desert, 
which ends in bitter disappointment to the stag- 
parched with thirst. 

Jh)y. I shall like the peacock if it can run and 
fly; not else. [He takes it 

First Attcn. [Looking round in confusion^ 
Alas, the child's amulet is not on his wrist! 

Duslun. Be not alarmed. It was dropped 



OR, THE FATAL RING. 747 

while he was playing with the lion : I see it, and 
will put it into your hand. 

Both. Oh! beware of touching it. 

First Atten. Ah! he has actually taken it up. 
|" They both gaze with surprize on each other. 

Dushm. Here it is; but why would you have 
restrained me from touching this bright gem ? 

Second Atten. Great monarch, this divine amu- 
let has a wonderful power, and was given to the 
child by the son of Marichi, as soon as the sacred 
rites had been performed after his birth ; when- 
ever it fell on the ground, no human being but 
the father or mother of this boy could have 
touched it unhurt. 

Dnshm. What if a stranger had taken it ? 
First Atten. It would have become a serpent 
and wounded him. 

Dushm. Have you seen that consequence on 
any similar occasion? 

Both. Frequently. 

Dushm. [ With transport?^ I may then exult 
on the completion of my ardent desire. 

[He embraces the child. 

Second Atten. Come, Suvrita, let us carry the 
delightful intelligence to Sacontala, whom the 
harsh duties of a separated wife have so long 
oppressed. [ The Attendants go out. 

Boy. Farewell ; I must go to my mother. 

Dushm. My darling son, thou wilt make her 
happy by going to her with me. 

Boy. Dushmanta is my father; and you are 
not Dushmanta. 



T48 SACOXTALA: 



Dushm. Even thy denial of me gives me 
delight. 

Sacontala enters in mourning apparel, with her 
long hair twisted in a single braid, and flow- 
ing down her baek. 

Sae. [Aside] Having heard that my child's 
amulet has proved its divine power, I must either 
be strangely diffident of my good fortune, or that 
event which Misracesi predicted has actually 
happened. {Advancing. 

Ditslim. [ With a mixture of joy and sorrow.] 
Ah ! do I see the incomparable Sacontala clad 
in sordid weeds? — Her face is emaciated by the 
performance of austere duties; one twisted lock 
floats over her shoulder; and with a mind per- 
fectly pure, she supports the long absence of her 
husband, whose unkindness exceeded all bounds. 

Sae. [Seeing him, yet doubting] Is that the 
son of my lord grown pale with penitence and 
affliction ? — If not, who is it, that sullies with his 
touch the hand of my child, whose amulet should 
have preserved him from such indignity ? 

Boy. [Going hastily to Sacontala.] Mother, here 
is a stranger who calls me son. 

Dicslun. Oh ! my best beloved, I have treated 
thee cruelly ; but my cruelty is succeeded by the 
warmest affection ; and I implore your remem- 
brance and forgiveness. 

Sae. [Aside] Be confident, O my heart ! — 
[Aloud] I shall be most happy when the king's 
anger has passed away. — [Aside] — This must be 
the son of my lord. 



OR, THE FATAL RING. 149 

Dushm. By the kindness of heaven, O love- 
liest of thy sex, thou standest again before me, 
whose memory was obscured by the gloom of 
fascination ; as the star Rohini at the end of an 
eclipse rejoins her beloved moon. 

Sac. May the king be — [She bursts into tears. 

DusJim. My darling, though the word victorious 
be suppressed by thy weeping, yet I must have 
victory, since I see thee again, though with pale 
lips and a body unadorned. 

Boy. What man is this, mother ? 

Sac. Sweet child, ask the divinity who presides 
over the fortunes of us both. [She weeps. 

DusJim. O my only beloved, banish from thy 
mind my cruel desertion of thee. — A violent 
phrensy overpowered my soul — Such, when the 
darkness of illusion prevails, are the actions of 
the best intentioned ; as a blind man, w^hen a 
friend binds his head with a wreath of flowers, 
mistakes it for a twining snake, and foolishly 
rejects it. [He falls at her feet. 

Sac. Rise, my husband, oh ! rise. — My happi- 
ness has been long interrupted ; but joy now 
succeeds to affliction, since the son of my lord 
still loves me. — [He rises.] — How was the remem- 
brance of this unfortunate woman restored to the 
mind of my lord's son ? 

Dushm. When the dart of misery shall be 
wholly extracted from my bosom, I will tell you 
all; but since the anguish of my soul has in part 
ceased, let me first wipe off that tear which 



150 SACOXTALA; 



trickles from thy delicate eye-lash ; and thus 
efface the memory of all the tears which my 
delirium has made thee shed. 

[He s tret dies out Ids hand. 

Sac. [Wiping off her tears, and seeing the ring 
on his finger^ Ah ! is that the fatal ring ? 

Dnslnn. Yes ; by the surprising recovery of 
it my memory was restored. 

Sac. Its influence, indeed, has been great ; 
since it has brought back the lost confidence of 
my husband. 

Dnslini. Take it then, as a beautiful plant re- 
ceives a flower from the returning season of joy. 

Sac. I cannot again trust it. — Let it be worn 
by the son of my lord. 

Matali enters. 

Mat. By the will of heaven the king has happily 
met his beloved wife, and seen the countenance 
of his little son. 

Dnslun. It was by the company of my friend 
that my desire attained maturity. — But say, was 
not this fortunate event previously known to I ndra ? 

Mat. [Smiling.] What is unknown to the 
gods ? — But come ; the divine Maricha desires 
to see thee. 

Duslim. Beloved, take our son by the hand ; 
and let me present you both to the father of 
immortals. 

Sac. I really am ashamed, even in thy presence, 
to approach the deities. 

Duslun. It is highly proper on so happy anocca- 



OR, THE FATAL RING. 151 

sion. — Come, I entreat thee. [They all advance. 
The scene is withdrawn, and Casyapa is discovered 
on a throne conversing with Aditi. 

Cas. [Pointing to the king.] That, O daughter 
of Dacsha, is the hero who led the squadrons of 
thy son to the front of battle, a sovereign of 
the earth, Dushmanta ; by the means of whose 
bow the thunderbolt of Indra (all its work being 
accomplished) is now a mere ornament of his 
heavenly palace. 

Adi. He bears in his form all the marks of 
exalted majesty. 

Mat. [To Dushmanta.] The parents of the 
twelve Adityas, O king, are gazing on thee, as 
on their own offspring, with eyes of affection.— 
Approach them, illustrious prince. 

Dnshm. Are those, O Matali, the divine pair, 
sprung from Marichi and Dacsha ? — Are those 
the grand-children of Brahma, to whom the self- 
existent gave birth in the beginning : whom 
inspired mortals pronounce the fountain of glory 
apparent in the form of twelve suns ; they who 
produced my benefactor, the lord of a hundred 
sacrifices, and ruler of three worlds ? 

Mat. Even they. — [Prostrating himself with 
Dushmanta?^ — Great beings, the king Dushmanta, 
who has executed the commands of your son 
Vasava, falls humbly before your throne. 

Cas. Continue long to rule the world. 

Adi. Long be a warriour with a car unshattered 
in combat. 

. [Sacontala and her son prostrate themselves. 



152 SAC0N7ALA; 



Cas. Daughter, may thy husband be like 
Indra ! May thy son resemble Jayanta ! and 
mayst thou (whom no benediction could better 
suit) be equal in prosperity to the daughter of 
Puloman ! 

Adi. Preserve, my child, a constant unity with 
thy lord : and may this boy, for a great length of 
years, be the ornament and joy of you both ! 
Now be seated near us. 

{They all sit down. 
Cas. [Looking at them by turns.] Sacontala is 
the model of excellent wives ; her son is duti- 
ful ; and thou, O king, hast three rare advan- 
tages, true piety, abundant wealth, and active 
virtue. 

DusJim. O divine being, having obtained the 
former object of my most ardent wishes, I now 
have reached the summit of earthly happiness 
through thy favour, and thy benizon will ensure 
its permanence. — First appears the flower, then the 
fruit ; first clouds are collected, then the shower 
falls : such is the regular course of causes and 
effects ; and thus, when thy indulgence pre- 
ceded, felicity generally followed. 

Mat. Great indeed, O king, has been the kind- 
ness of the primeval Brahmens. 

Duslim. Bright son of Marichi, this thy hand- 
maid was married to me by the ceremony of 
Gandharvas, and, after a time, was conducted to 
my palace by some of her family ; but my 
memory having failed through delirium, I rejected 



OR, THE FATAL RING. 



her, and thus committed a grievous offence 
against the venerable Canna, who is of thy divine 
lineage ; afterwards, on seeing this fatal ring, I 
remembered my love and my nuptials ; but the 
whole transaction yet fills me with wonder. My 
soul was confounded with strange ignorance that 
obscured my senses ; as if a man were to see an 
elephant marching before him, yet to doubt what 
animal it could be, till he discovered by the traces 
of his large feet that it was an elephant. 

Cas. Cease, my son, to charge thyself with an 
offence committed ignorantly, and, therefore, 
innocently. — Now hear me 

Dushm. I am devoutly attentive. 

Cas. When the nymph Menaca led Sacontala 
from the place where thy desertion of her had 
afflicted her soul, she brought her to the palace 
of Aditi ; and I knew, by the power of medita- 
tion on the Supreme Being, that thy forgetfulness 
of thy pious and lawful consort had proceeded 
from the imprecation of Durvasas, and that the 
charm would terminate on the sight of thy ring. 

Dushm. [Aside.] My name then is cleared 
from infamy. 

Sac. Happy am I that the son of my lord, 
who now recognises me, denied me through 
ignorance, and not with real aversion. — The ter- 
rible imprecation was heard, I suppose, when 
my mind was intent on a different object, by my 
two beloved friends, who, with extreme affection, 
concealed it from me to spare my feelings, but 

L 



1 5-4- SACONTALAj 



advised me at parting to show the ring if my 
husband should have forgotten me. 

Cos. {Turning to Sacontala.] Thou art ap- 
prised, my daughter, of the whole truth, and 
must no longer resent the behaviour of thy lord. 
— He rejected thee when his memory was im- 
paired by the force of a charm; and when the 
gloom was dispelled, his conjugal affection re- 
vived ; as a mirror whose surface has been sullied, 
reflects no image; but exhibits perfect resem- 
blances when its polish has been restored. 

Dushm, Such, indeed, was my situation. 

Cas. My son Dushmanta, hast thou embraced 
thy child by Sacontala, on whose birth I myself 
performed the ceremonies prescribed in the 
Veda ? 

Dushm. Holy Marichi, he is the glory of my 
house. 

Cas. Know too, that his heroick virtue will 
raise him to a dominion extended from sea to 
sea : before he has passed the ocean of mortal 
life, he shall rule, unequalled in combat, this 
earth with seven peninsulas ; and, as he now is 
called Scrvademana, because he tames even in 
childhood the fiercest animals, so, in his riper 
years, he shall acquire the name of Bhereta, 
because he shall sustain and nourish the world. 

Dushm. A boy educated by the son of Mari- 
chi, must attain the summit of greatness. 

AdL Now let Sacontala, who is restored to 
happiness, convey intelligence to Canna of all 



OR, THE IF AT A L RING. 155 

these events : her mother Menaca is in my family, 
and knows all that has passed. 

Sac. The goddess proposes what I most ar- 
dently wish. 

Cas. By the force of true piety the whole scene 
will be present to the mind of Canna. 

Dushm. The devout sage must be still exces- 
sively indignant at my frantick behaviour. 

Cas. {Meditating?^ Then let him hear from me 
the delightful news, that his foster-child has been 
tenderly received by her husband, and that both 
are happy with the little warriour who sprang 
from them. — Hola ! who is in waiting ? 
A Pupil enters. 

Pnp. Great being, I am here. 

Cas. Hasten, Golava, through the light air, 
and in my name inform the venerable Canna 
that Sacontala has a charming son by Dush- 
manta, whose affection for her was restored 
with his remembrance, on the termination of the 
spell raised by the angry Durvasas. 

Pup. As the divinity commands. [He goes out. 

Cas. My son, re-ascend the car of Indra with 
thy consort and child, and return happy to thy 
imperial seat. 

Dushm. Be it as Marichi ordains. 

Cas. Henceforth may the god of the atmos- 
phere with copious rain give abundance to thy 
affectionate subjects ; and mayst thou with frequent 
sacrifices maintain the Thunderer's friendship ! 
By numberless interchanges^of good offices be- 



156 SACONTALA. 



<A 



tween you both, may benefits reciprocally be 
conferred on the inhabitants of the two worlds ! 

DusJim. Powerful being, I will be studious, as 
far as I am able, to attain that felicity. 

Cas. What other favours can I bestow on thee ? 

Duslim. Can any favours exceed those al- 
ready bestowed ? — Let every king apply him- 
self to the attainment of happiness for his people ; 
let Seresw T ati, the goddess of liberal arts, be 
adored by all readers of the Veda ; and may 
Siva, with an azure neck and red locks, eternally 
potent and self-existing, avert from me the pain 
of another birth in this perishable world, the seat 
of crimes and of punishments. [All go out. 



THE END. 



rOS rER, OLD 51 VLB I RIN1 l!:. ' 





















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